


Conquest and Faith

by VVSIGNOFTHECROSS



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen, House Teague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-02-18 13:49:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 38,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2350634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VVSIGNOFTHECROSS/pseuds/VVSIGNOFTHECROSS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House Teague- Conquest and Faith, the story of a house that unites Andal Westeros into one kingdom</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_It is not known when exactly House Teague was founded, the royal family would have you believe that they were founded during the age of heroes by Lyonel Teague, a man who was so fierce and strong that he made Brandon the builder quiver in fear, their enemies though would have you believe that they were founded by a craven and trickster who managed to trick the maiden daughter of Lord Qarl Volmark thus claiming their lands and titles for his own. Of course we shall never truly be able to know for certain when House Teague was founded, but what is for certain is that they have been around for many thousands of years, long before the Andals came to Westeros, they served as the champions of House Mudd for many years, but when King Tristifer IV the hammer of justice died on a bloody field outside Oldstones, House Teague bent the knee to the Andals and became the most loyal bannermen to House Fisher who replaced the Mudds as rulers of the Ironborn. House Teague is noted for producing good and honourable men and women, some famous members include Ser Loren Teague known as the Warrior of the Trident, Lady Eleana Teague who ruled well and long and produced many famous children who influenced the course of the Riverlands for many centuries._

_House Teague has always had an important role to play, they fought long and hard beside House Fisher during the wars against the Storm Kings, though when House Fisher died, they submitted and gave over hostages to the Storm Kings and their bannermen though they plotted rebellion. And when Lord Donnel Justman Lord of the Blue Fork raised his banners in rebellion, House Teague joined him and provided the bulk of the Justman force that defeated King Durran II at the battle of the Green Fork in 1200 B.C. After this House Teague became House Justman’s most fierce and loyal supporter doing all they could to help their kings and queens ensure the security of the realm. Many a Teague and Justman were wed to one another over the four hundred and seventy years that House Justman reigned as kings of the riverlands. This continued until the Ironborn came calling, with their longships and quick fire tactics and the traitors amongst the riverlords who had grown angry and greedy. House Justman’s hold on the Riverlands ended with King Harrold II on the banks of the Green Fork where his ancestor had gained his throne, the man’s sons were taken back to Pyke for torture, the boys named Harrold and Edmure’s remains were found in the cells of Pyke some twenty years after the event. The Ironborn though received a dent to their aspirations and under the command of King Goren Hoare, they retreated back to the Islands to plot their next move._

_The Riverlands left without a king, erupted into open civil war with House Teague, House Tully, House Mooton and House Mallister, all of whom had a claim to the throne of the riverlands through their grandmothers, who had been sisters to the grandfather of King Harrold I. The principal allies of House Teague were House Bracken and House Darry whilst the other houses found their support divided into the smaller and lesser houses of the Riverlands. Whilst House Tully had the fiercest warrior in the riverlands as their lord in Lord Hoster Tully, House Teague led by Lord Tristifer Teague had in them the biggest army of the four houses and the most experienced commander, for Lord Tristifer was twenty and two and had fought in three wars before then, whilst Lord Hoster and the other Lords were all green boys. The war lasted for two years with separate kingdoms providing aid at different times, but eventually due to a tactical move by Lord Tristifer, the other lords began to die off one by one, with Lord Tristifer eventually killing Lord Hoster in single combat during the storming of Riverrun in 725 BC._

_Their enemies defeated, Lord Tristifer was formally anointed and recognised as king of the riverlands by the High Septon, during his coronation at House Teague’s seat on the banks of the Trident, where he became King Tristifer VI. King Tristifer was a hard man but just, and he pardoned those houses that had risen against him though he took lands and hostages from them. To those who had fought loyally for him he rewarded them fairly, giving House Bracken lands that had once been part of House Blackwood’s domain. Ser Walder Frey, the King’s personal bodyguard was rewarded with lands in the northern riverlands that bordered the Neck for his service and hard work. King Tristifer became known as a fair and just king, working hard to ensure that peace returned to the riverlands after many years of war, and though he faced two minor rebellions from House Vance he ended crushing them and wiping them out completely in the process. All in all peace was largely back to the Riverlands by the time our tale starts in 700 BC._

_Before we take to our tale though, we must also assess what had happened in the rest of the kingdoms whilst a civil war had been waging in the Riverlands. In the north King Harlon Stark faced yet another Bolton rebellion, this time led by his own goodbrother Lord Jonnel Bolton who hoped to claim Winterfell through his marriage to his king’s sister. This rebellion saw the Boltons allied with various minor northern houses and a civil war that lasted for four years before it eventually ended once more with the Dreadfort dipping its banners. And because the King’s own sister was wed to the rebel lord, the Bolton’s lived though Lord Jonnel lost his head and the king’s nephew lost some of his lands._

_In the very south, the Rhoynar arrived in Dorne fleeing from Dragon fire and Valyrian anger. Led by Nymeria that hardened warrior woman, they arrived in droves and found common cause with the people of the south eastern part of Dorne and began to settle and integrate into Dornish culture whilst bringing some of their own ways into Dorne. House Yronwood so often at loggerheads with their neighbours declared this unacceptable and began waging war, a war that as yet was undecided._

_But that is a tale for another time, for now we must look to House Teague and the Riverlands, for King Tristifer VI Teague has grand plans for his kingdom and for his heir Prince Edmyn. Let us see what games shall come from this._


	2. The Champion

**Fourth Month of 700 BC Trident Keep**

**King Tristifer VI Teague**

For twenty five years he had ruled as king of the riverlands, after the civil war that had gripped the kingdom following Harrold Justman’s death, there had been a deep need for peace and plenty to return to the kingdom and as such Tristifer had ensured that that had been brought into place. He had increased taxes for a short period but had also allowed for greater trading discounts for those houses that had ports, Seagard and Maidenpool saw increased sea trade with the free cities and the kingdoms of the north and the Vale, and in time trade resumed with the Westerlands and the Reach by land. That had brought increased revenue into the royal coffers that Tristifer had used to refurbish and redevelop the Riverlands, having roads and buildings and other such establishments built that could help encourage trade and bring about greater peace and unity amongst the riverlords and the smallfolk. All in all he had been largely successful, though when House Vance of Atranta had risen up in rebellion with their sworn houses, it had seemed as if they might pick up steam and go ahead for a real challenge, but on the banks of the blue Fork Tristifer slew Lord Hyman and crushed the rebellion, and then again when House Vance of Wayfarer’s rest rebelled, their castle and house were ended as were the Vances of Atranta. After that there had been peace and plenty in the riverlands. Tristifer though was not a fool, he knew that at the slightest opportunity the more powerful of his bannermen would rebel, and so he kept a close eye on House Tully who were led by the ambitious Lord Brynden Tully, and on House Mooton who controlled Maidenpool and had much say over trading deals with the free cities. Of course House Frey led by Lord Walder were a close ally and a powerful and upcoming house with their castle developing and expanding all the time.

As to his own family, Tristifer loved his wife Jeyne, theirs had been a marriage of politics, arranged by Tristifer’s father Lord Osgood in order to ensure that House Darry remained loyal to the Justman royal family. His wife had a sharp wit and was very cunning, and as such she had become his closest advisor during his reign often pointing out the flaws in some of his plans and policies and suggesting ways in which they could be improved, often producing much higher results for the betterment of the kingdom. Together they had had five children, their eldest child and Tristifer’s heir Edmyn was a charming and capable warrior of thirty who had fought in a border skirmish with some of the Lords of the crownlands some years before, Edmyn was wed with children of his own now and would make a good king one day. Edmyn’s twin brother Tristifer the younger was wild and carefree and often did things that made his father shake his head in despair and wondered often what his son actually got up to, he had numerous bastards across the kingdom and as such had never settled down. Tristifer’s daughter Helen was lady of Stone Hedge and had inherited her mother’s sharpness and political acumen and as such had ensured that the conflict between Bracken and Blackwood had ended for good this time. Then there was his second daughter Tanya who had died giving birth to the heir of Lord Walder’s heir, she had been kind and sweet and her death still pained Tristifer. Finally there was the youngest of Tristifer and Jeyne’s children Prince Edmure, a shy youth of eighteen who was good with a sword but rarely spoke or did anything of note.

All in all things were looking good for House Teague and yet Tristifer did not want to become lax or complacent because of this and so he held regular meetings with his advisors, today was one such meeting. Gathered in his solar were maester Derrick, Ser Andrew Rivers the master at arms, Lord Henry Whent a bannerman and a trusted confidant and finally there was Edmyn. Tristifer spoke first as was his custom. “Thank you for coming my lords and lady. We have much to discuss, reports from Maidenpool and from those lords closest to the Stormlands report that the Durrandons are building their army up once more, perhaps for a potential invasion of the Riverlands again. King Durran I believe is still seething over the fact that his ploy to bring the crownlands into his kingdom failed most miserably, and as such it does seem as if he means to bring us into his kingdom by conquest. Lord Henry what news have your sources been able to gather on this development?”

Henry Whent was the silent type and rarely spoke unless asked directly and so his words were slow and measured as he responded. “My sources have reports that confirm what you have said your grace. There are men gathering at Blackhaven, Stonehelm, Nightsong and even Bronzegate and Felwood, they are training and preparing quite a sizeable force. It does appear as if King Durran means to invade a kingdom whether it be the riverlands or the Reach or even the crownlands is not certain. My sources in the crownlands, report that an alliance has formed between the lords of Crackclaw point and the Darklyns and the Rosbys. It seems they too are seeking to go for conquest.”

Tristifer digested this information and then asked. “And you believe they will go for the riverlands my lord?”

Lord Henry nods and says. “Aye I do Your Grace. The Darklyns have never truly given up their will to be kings and as such I believe they will look to unite the crownlands underneath their banner before they march for the riverlands. I believe we should wait and see what they do first before we begin making any preparations. If they do succeed in conquering the rest of the crownlands then we must begin making ready for war, for they will not rest until they have us under their control.”

Edmyn spoke then. “Aye and it will be the same for the Durrandons. They are a prideful lot and the fact that we remain independent will be something that greatly bothers them. Perhaps we might send men to enquire as to what they are doing?”

Maester Derrick speaks then. “That would be a smart thing to do where it any other king. But King Durran has developed a reputation for not being the smartest man in the kingdoms. He would not take well to the sending of envoys, and he might use that as an excuse to start a war. No perhaps we had best wait and see.”

 Tristifer nods then. “Aye that might be for the best, though I do want scouting parties sent out on a regular basis towards our borders to make sure that we do not run the risk of being caught out unawares. Now there is another pressing matter we must discuss. Wayfarer’s rest has remained a ruin for nearly three decades now, and whilst House Vance no longer lives, I do believe it is time for the lands to see a lord again.”

Maester Derrick draws out a piece of paper and begins reading the names of potential candidates. “Well, Lord Tully has a younger brother Edmund his name is, the man is smart and has helped keep the Tully lands peaceful and quiet, he might be a good candidate. Then there is Ser Borros Rivers, the bastard of a Blackwood, the man is a good warrior and knows the lands around Wayfarer’s rest well and has dealt with the people there for many years. And finally there is Prince Edmure.”

Tristifer was silent a moment and then he said. “I shall speak with Ser Borros on the morrow. It is time that the man was rewarded for his hard work.”

“Do you not think Edmure should be given the seat Your Grace? After all he is of the blood.” Edmyn asked.

Tristifer looked at his oldest son and said. “Edmure is not ready yet for such a task, he is young still and needs time to grow and learn. There will be plenty of time for him to learn about ruling, plenty of time.”


	3. A Prince Of The Bay

**Seventh Month of 7000 BC: The Bay**

**Ser Dontos Darklyn**

Ser Dontos Darklyn was a tall man, with strong arms and broad shoulders, some called him the Bull for how big and strong he was, he was the best warrior in all of Duskendale and the surrounding area and had won his spurs as a boy of thirteen. Ser Dontos was the younger brother to Ser Elmar Darklyn, Lord of Duskendale and Prince of the Rush, and both were formidable men, Elmar the brains, Dontos the brawn, and together they planned on carving out an empire for their family. Dontos had come to accept long ago that he would serve his brother’s sons just as he served his brother, and in his brother’s eldest son and heir Jaime, Dontos believed they had someone who could become the greatest Darklyn of them all, for Jaime was both smart, charismatic and a great warrior, and that he was twenty and demand for his hand in marriage was so high signalled that he was regarded very highly. Dontos’ other nephews paled in comparison, Denys was shy and bookish, Adam was thick as a brick and strong and then there was Tregar who was neither smart or strong but somewhere in between. Dontos himself had never married had never wanted to, not after his cousin Selena had died during the last Storm war.

That the Storm king had come calling once more only served to whet Dontos’ appetite for blood and war. King Durran was thirty years old and had seen his father’s kingdom shrink to just the Stormlands, Dontos and Elmar had destroyed old King Arran’s host and knocked them from the crownlands many years ago. One would have thought that Durran would have learnt from that, but it seemed he had not for he had called his banners and raids had been going on in the borders. Elmar though had been prepared for this eventuality for many years, and as such the raiders from the Stormlands were greeted with fire and steel, Dontos himself had been in charge of the company that had slain half a hundred Stormlanders under the command of Lord Massey. Now though King Durran had finally stirred himself from his seat and was marching towards them. Elmar had tasked Dontos with leading the vanguard, and he was waiting for this war council to be done before he marched. His brother sat still and silent as he waited for the lords Rosby, Hayford, Celtigar and many others talked, at a cough from Dontos they fell silent and Elmar spoke, his voice soft. “My lords, we all know what the situation is. King Durran has finally stirred from Storm’s End and the might of the Stormlands is marching towards us as we speak. Our scouts say there are some 15,000 of them marching now, we have only 10,000 men at best another 2,000 will join us from close by sometime soon. However, I have never been one to leave it all to chance and so I would discuss our best courses of action. Dontos if you would?”

Dontos nodded and spoke of the plan he and Elmar had concocted back at Duskendale. “We know that the Durrandon host will be strong in mounted horsemen and with the king himself riding within that frame, it would be natural for him to expect us to mount a strong assault against them. However, that is not the approach we shall take. If Durran is anything like his father, he will get frustrated and will eventually do something foolhardy, if we bait him long enough.” He paused and took a sip of water and carried on. “We shall send a probing force of some 1,000 men under your command Lord Rosby to engage with the mounted men, it will be a dangerous task but it will keep Durran busy. Meanwhile, I shall lead the van and attack the flanks, breaking their ranks and causing havoc.”

There was some murmuring at that and then Lord Rosby never a brave man spoke. “That is all well and good Ser, but how do you know that the flanks will be broken when the van attacks?”

Dontos spoke once more. “Because our scouts have reported seeing Lord Dondarrion leading the left and his goodbrother Lord Swann leading the right flanks. Both men are impatient and brazen and will act to save their own skins the minute they are attacked. This will leave King Durran vulnerable and that is when we strike.”

Rosby was silent and then Lord Blackberry spoke up. “That is all well and good my lord. But what if King Durran is not present in the host when you attack? Then 1,000 men are sent to their graves for nothing. What if Durran has learnt from the mistakes of his father and sends others to do the leading during this initial march?”

Dontos is silent thinking of how to reply when his nephew Jaime speaks. “If it is not Durran then it will be either his son or his brother. The Durrandons are an impulsive lot my lord surely you must know that by now. They all want glory and honour, and as such will see this as their chance to gain it.”

Elmar spoke then. “My son speaks truly. We all know what these black haired fools are like. They have more pride than sense, and as such if it is not Durran it will be his son or one of his many brothers. Either way we shall still have the chance to kill a Durrandon and dent the Stormlords pride and sense of safety.”

Lord Devon Blount speaks then. “And after we have defeated them and King Durran is not in their host? What do we do then?”

Dontos spoke then. “We keep fighting until they are back in their stinking piece of shit of a kingdom. We show them that we shall not fall.”

There is a general cheer at that, and then Elmar speaks. “My brother shall command the van, Lord Buckwell you shall command the right, Lord Rambton you shall command the centre, I shall handle the van and Lord Rosby you shall have the honour of beginning our battle for us.”

The lords nod and file out, Dontos looks at his brother quickly and nods slightly and then he has put on his armour and is mounted waiting for the sound of a horn to signal the oncoming battle. They wait and wait and then a deep sounding horn is heard signalling the arrival of the Stormlords on the Hill of Defiance, Dontos breathes in once, then twice and then on the third breath he sees Rosby and his men riding hard for the centre column. After what felt like a lifetime, Dontos heard the sounds of battle and the roars of the Bay beneath them, he drew his sword and roared. “Fight now!” And then led the charge up the hill cutting through the branches, raising his sword again, the archers unleashed arrows breaking into the Stormlands host, the battle commenced with full fury. Dontos swung his sword, again and again he swung and more and more men fell before it. His armour was covered red before long, his breathing came much quicker, his blood sang and the bodies and all merged into a single image on he fought, pushing through the throng. Swinging and hacking, slashing and cutting.

The push continued he swung his sword hacking and slashing, pushing harder and harder against the fray watching as men broke and ran or broke and died. His sword sang with joy as it cut through man after man, man after man, some were no more than boys, but none stood a chance against Dontos Darklyn. His armour was dented but still he pushed on swinging and hacking, swinging and hacking, the sword became a heavy weight in his arms as his tiredness grew but still he pushed on.  Eventually the flank broke and as he yelled for his men to follow he saw Lord Dondarrion’s broken banner on the ground covered in blood.

The battle continues as the Stormlords flee breaking rank all the way down the hill and through the forest they fight, Dontos giving a hard push swinging and hacking his way through the men and the forest, the trees make it all seem dark but still he pushes on his men following his lead. Eventually they come to the forest of the ash and tree where rumour says the Children still dwell, but in the darkness and gloom Dontos can see none, and then he hears the sound of more hooves and then the arrows appear, and fire comes from these arrows, a trap but one that was orchestrated by whom? Dontos pushes through swinging and swinging and then an arrow strikes him and he believes that the time has come for a retreat but he has been cut off by his men. As he looks for ways to escape this, he hears laughter and sees banners beginning to appear on the horizon. 


	4. Strongrief

**Ninth Month of 700 BC Asher’s Wood**

**King Durran III Durrandon**

Durran wielded his war hammer like it was a child’s toy, swinging it and bringing it down crashing onto his enemies, laughing all the while, his stag helm glinting in the sun. Durran Durrandon third of his name King of the Stormlands and known as the black stag was built like many Durrandons of the past, big and broad and muscular with a thick crop of black hair and laughing blue eyes. He was a warrior in his prime, and as such he was making it known to the army of the Darklyns. Asher’s Wood with its high trees and places of shade and light was a good place as any for a battle to be fought, and for the past three hours that was what Durran and his men and the Darklyns and their men had been doing. Control over the wood and the stone tower that signalled ownership over the wood had passed between the two armies over the past few days, and today was no different. Durran swung his hammer again and again crushing many a man’s skull as he pushed himself and his men forward towards the tower that was currently in enemy hands. That was something he could not allow to continue.

The war with the Darklyns and their allies had been raging for two moons now, Durran knew that it was a risk and a gamble, the Stormlands were just coming off of the back of another war with the Dornish, but this was something that he needed to see done. And as such so far it had seemed to be going their way, at the Battle of the Bay they had managed to win a tight victory, breaking the Darklyn host before King Elmar had had a chance to realise the trap that his brother had fallen into. Durran had given command over that host to his brother Ser Alric Durrandon, a brave and fierce warrior, even though his own heir Boremund had wanted to lead the host, Durran could not risk his only son dying in this battle there were more important things for him to do. Alric had broken the Darklyn assault and had as instructed allowed Lord Dondarrion’s men to break and flee, Durran had been waiting with his archers and his fire for Ser Dontos Darklyn and when the man his host came, Durran let all hell break loose. The Battle of the Woods saw Ser Dontos wounded and captured and the vanguard of the Darklyn host completely annihilated.

He had to give it Elmar Darklyn though, the man was smart and persistent and as such had managed to force Durran’s hand and so he had ridden out and given battle on four more occasions, at Elmswood, Hag’s Mire, Durran’s Hill and many other places with the spoils being shared but neither host being able to do much more than dent the other’s confidence and progress before the whole cycle continued anew. Durran was determined to end that cycle today. And as he swung his hammer once more and ended yet another life he saw the tower get closer and closer and he thought that maybe, just maybe today might be the day that it ended and the crownlands and might soon follow. He pushed on harder, swinging his hammer again and again until there were but bodies in front of him, their eyes staring unseeingly into the sky. He roared triumphantly and pushed towards the foot of the tower where more men stood guard, he swung his hammer left, right, left again and then right again and the men fell, his guards clearing up the mess.

Up the steps they ran, Durran swinging his hammer, knocking men left and right and down the stairs in his haste to get to the top, once there he found  two men dressed in the colours of House Darklyn standing with their swords drawn, Durran laughed and began the approach towards them. The man on his left swung first, Durran moved to the right and then raised his hammer and swatted the man’s sword away, before he could bring the hammer up for another swing, the man to his right swung at him with his sword and cut Durran’s exposed hand, drawing blood.  Durran growled slightly and then using his strength shoved the hammer up and into the man’s face knocking him to the ground, before bringing the hammer down onto the back of the man’s skull crushing it. The man’s partner had picked up his sword and was beginning to jab at Durran hacking away and cutting into his armour.

Before the man could strike the killing blow though, Durran brought his hammer round to hit the man in the jaw as the man fell, Durran struck again this time on the man’s chin, the force of the blow sending the man falling to the ground dead. The tower was theirs, Durran felt faint and before he blacked out he said. “Tell the men to rest now and to kill those who are left from the Darklyns.”

A few days later once he had recovered enough for the maester to give him the go ahead to begin walking around camp once more, Durran found himself standing in the place where Ser Dontos Darklyn was kept, the man looked filthy and beaten, but still there was an air of dignity and an aura about him. Durran looked at him a long moment before saying. “Your brother’s host was defeated six days ago Darklyn. The tower belongs to us now as does most of the woodland and other land around here. Soon enough the lords who follow your brother will bend the knee to me and all shall be as it once was.”

Ser Dontos looked at him through swollen eyes and laughed. “You truly believe that nonsense don’t you Durran? Have you truly learnt nothing from your father’s failed campaign to hold the lands that my brother now rules? Your father tried similar tactics to you and ended up losing his life and leaving you a broken kingdom. Would you truly run that risk again?”

Durran bristled with anger and said sharply. “My father was a fool, I will admit that. But how secure are you in your lords loyalties? Truly? Rosby follows you because his father did, but the man is a craven and will look for protection from the strongest lord. Bar Emmon is a child who does as he is told, the lords of Crackclaw point follow none but themselves and then there are the others who follow for one reason or another. Reasons that your brother is showing himself incapable of providing for.”

Ser Dontos looked at him a moment and then asked in what appeared a broken voice. “What happened in the battle? I have a right to know that at least.”

Durran looked at the man and said simply. “Your brother’s army fled back to wherever your brother is camped, some 500 of them remain. Your brother’s heir Jaime I believe his name was, was killed.” With that he walks out of his tent and commands a war council be convened.  Once it is called he sits with a cup of wine and speaks. “We have won an important victory here, the tower is ours the woodland is ours. The Darklyns are beaten and scared now. We hold their most important warrior, and as such we must now push on to take their lands properly.”

His lords nodded and only Lord Selmy voiced concern. “What if this is a trap though? We fled and they followed and paid the price, what if they fled and now hope to do the same to us?”

Lord Estermont speaks then. “They are broken and beaten, they have not the strength to mount a trap or ploy similar to what we did. We must act now and break them whilst we still can.”

Durran nods and says. “Lord Swann you shall command the left, Alric the van, Lord Connington the right, I shall command the centre and Boremund the reserve. We strike out at first sight of the moon tomorrow.”

Once that was done Durran dismissed his lords from the council tent leaving only himself, his brother Alric. His brother looked at him for a long moment before speaking. “Are you sure it is a good idea to give Boremund command of the reserve brother? Would it not be better to perhaps give command of that part of the host to someone with more control?”

Durran shook his head. “No, Boremund must learn how to command his own host someday, and what better way than in actual battle? He will do well, Ser Rolland and Ser Ronnet will be there with him and they will steer him onto the right path. We must deal with the Darklyns soon enough and we must do it effectively and efficiently. Now what news has there been from the Riverlands?”

Alric looked over his notes and then said. “King Tristifer Teague has been building up his armies and his navy, he prepares for war almost as soon as we make our moves. His sons are prowling their borders ensuring that nothing goes awry, and there is rumour he means to attack the Tooth and the Bloody Gate.”

Durran nodded in consideration of this and said. “Very well so long as he expends his energy on that then he will not think to ponder overlong on what we do here. Now what about his son Tristifer the loose? Is it possible the boy will turn to our side?”

“If we give him his father’s keep then there is a chance he will. Otherwise the man has no interest in politics. He cares more about fighting and wenching then any politicking that his father and twin engage in.” Alric replied.

Durran nods and then says. “Now on this matter of the Rhoynar alliance with the Martells. This could very well pose a threat to our southern border, I believe they have gained many friends since the war their started we shall need to take a closer look at them and what they have that might be a threat to us once this is all done.”

Alric nods though before he leaves Durran says one last thing. “Also, brother. This time finish the job I want no more trouble from them.” His brother nods and leaves Durran to his wine and thoughts.


	5. Longing For The Sun

**Eleventh Month of 700 BC Trident Keep**

**King Tristifer VI Teague**

For the first time since before the Andals had arrived in Westeros, the riverlands were at peace with one another. The Brackens and the Blackwoods had put aside their petty differences and were working with one another to ensure that their part of the riverlands was kept peaceful and prosperous.  The Mootons were sticking to end of the peace agreement and were allowing more and more trade to flow through their city and up the trident towards more of the houses, and House Frey was prospering seeing their castle increasing in size and their lands grown and prosper. All in all in all it seemed that the hard work that Tristifer had put in during the early days of his reign were finally paying off, for that he was thankful, for he was no longer a young man he had turned forty seven some months ago and he was beginning to feel the pain in his back and legs from the battles all those years ago. He was sure that he had managed to secure the Riverlands for Edmyn when his son came to the throne, but there were certain things that were still plaguing his mind and as such he had called a meeting with his advisors to discuss these issues. Edmyn, Lord Whent and Maester Derrick were all present, even his second son Tristifer had deigned to join them.

Tristifer looked at his heir and Edmyn taking the hint spoke first. “After many days spent patrolling our western borders I do believe it is fair enough to say that King Tyrion definitely is planning something. Whether he means to invade the Riverlands or head south towards the Reach I do not know, but what I do know is that whatever it is he is planning will not be to our benefit.”

“What do you think it could be Your Grace?” Maester Derrick asked. “Do you believe King Tyrion thinks to do what King Durran could not do and take the riverlands from House Teague?”

Tristifer was silent a moment and then he said. “It is possible, as far as I know the Lannisters have never held the Riverlands, and King Tyrion is a man of many appetites, he will want something to add to his father’s many achievements. But of course that could be all irrelevant, still I do believe we would be less vulnerable if our borders were secure. Tristifer what news have you from the east? What moves has King Osgood Arryn been making?”

His son looked haggard and bloated as if he had been spending the night drinking, no doubt he had. “King Osgood does nothing, it is Ser Adam Royce the knight of the gate who is the one who has been causing us trouble. He has been sending men down the gate to raid and fight with our men. Though we send word that we are merely patrols the man does nothing and allows his men to continue as they please. I sincerely believe that the man is planning something and that his king is aware of what is happening. And then there is the fact that King Durran now holds the crownlands. The Darklyns have bent the knee and the man is sending parties out to our very borders. Mocking us.”

“Osgood Arryn is not a fool, he cannot risk open conflict not yet, not after the trouble he had with the Sistermen. It is likely that he is trying to provoke me into starting this conflict. That is not something I am willing to do, Adam Royce is a good warrior but a dumb commander. Tristifer I want you to bait him into sending more men down the mountains and towards our western border. If anyone is to start this conflict it shall be him.” The king replied.

His son looked at him askance and asked. “You want me to deliberately bait Ser Adam Royce into starting a conflict? Are you sure that it will work father?”

Tristifer nodded. “Yes I am sure, very sure. Adam Royce is a young man hot headed and prone to making rash judgements. He will fall for the bait you set him, for it will be one entirely of your own design. And once the man leads his host down from the gate, we shall be ready to take the Gate once and for all.”

Edmyn speaks then guessing what his father’s plan is. “You mean to have a host waiting in preparation for when Ser Adam and his men engage Tristifer near the High Road father?” Tristifer nods and his son goes on. “And you mean to have this host camped near Palisade Village then I take it? But then how will you get the host of men from the village up the hill to the gate?”

The king smiles then and says simply. “Let us just say that Adam Royce does not have many supporters in his domain of control. Soon we shall have the Gate and for that I will have you in command Edmyn. It is time that you took command of our men, the ravens shall be sent out soon enough. Tristifer I want this plan to take place in three moons time and I want it done in such a way that it appears natural to an oaf such as Adam Royce.”

His son nods and says. “It shall be done as you asked father.”

The king smiles then and says. “Good now that that is out of the way, there are two other matters I have been meaning to discuss.  The Valyrians have begun settling people on the island of Dragonstone. As such I do believe there might be a case of setting up a trade contract with them there.”

Tristifer speaks then. “What could those sheep fuckers hope to offer us? They aren’t like to send their dragons there are they? All they have apart from sheep is wine and we have the best wine available to us here.”

The King sighed then and said. “Aye their dragons will not come, but they will use the outpost as a means of selling other wares such as gold and iron and steel. Valyrian steel, items we can use and benefit from hugely. And we can sell them our wares for higher prices as well.”

Maester Derrick speaks then voicing his support. “His Grace speaks truly. The Valyrians are in dire need of some of what we have to offer, and setting up trade links with them on Dragonstone could then lead to us having an established base for trade and other operations into the Freehold. If we get there before the other kingdoms do, we can install ourselves as their primary partner here in Westeros and benefit from reduced rates.”

Edmyn looks at the king and asks. “So you will go forth with this then?”

“I will,” The king says nodding his head. “We must get more trade and look beyond our borders and Westeros if the need arises. Now the other matter I have to discuss is your betrothal Tristifer. You are thirty, a man grown for many years now, you are a good man and a better warrior. You have spent many years drinking and fucking your way through the Riverlands, and I have allowed it. No more. Once the Bloody Gate is ours, you shall hold it in the family’s name. I want you to deal with Ser Adam Royce and then I want you to join your strength to your brother’s, do this and do well and the gate is yours. You shall have a choice of bride, but apart from that this decision is final.”

His son looks at him a dark glower on his face before he merely nods and says. “As you wish Your Grace.”

Step one done, Tristifer dismisses his council and sits and stares at the map before him, they have a long way to go.


	6. Standing In The Dark

**Second Month of 699 BC**

**Prince Tristifer Teague**

Prince Tristifer Teague was a big man, tall and muscular with the dark brown hair and grey eyes of his mother’s family. He was a renowned warrior and fighter having fought against Ironborn reavers and invaders from the Stormlands; he had been knighted by Lord Brynden Tully when he had turned sixteen on the blood soaked battlefield of Wendish Fields. Tristifer Teague unlike his father and namesake was a man of big appetites; he liked fighting and would take part in any melee he could find or any minor scuffle, he liked drinking and as such had stumbled out of many a tavern and had developed quite a tolerance to wine, ale and many other beverages that numbed the mind and finally he liked women. He was not wed nor was he betrothed, and as such he had plenty of time and space to make love and to chase after skirt. He had many bastards around the kingdom and some even in other kingdoms, of that he knew, he had seven bastards that he actually knew the names of his squire Marc was one of them, gotten on some girl from House Lothston, his eldest bastard was a smart lad and good with swords if a bit surly. Still Tristifer knew that his father and his elder brother and twin did not approve of his lifestyle, they were both very straight laced and rarely smiled, it was if they never knew how to have fun anymore. Tristifer suspected that this mission he had been given by his father was a way to remove him from court. Still he did not mind he wanted more power and more battles and he was about to get them.

He and his men numbering some 500 were mounted and waiting on the middle of the High Road leading to the Bloody Gate, he had sent scouts out to draw Ser Adam Royce out from his stronghold to engage in battle. As he waited his squire spoke. “Do you truly think Ser Adam will fall for the bait Your Grace?”

Tristifer looked at his squire and replied. “Aye he will. If the man has any sense he will. It has become standard practice for forces looking to take a foothold into the Vale to send scouting parties up toward the gate. If the man does his job properly he will ride down and follow Ser Marq down to us here.”

His squire though was relentless. “But what if he does not? What if he decides to head down to the villages and spots Prince Edmyn and the host there? What will we do then?”

Tristifer looked at his squire and said simply. “Then we shall do all we can to aid Edmyn and make Ser Adam pay for his foolishness. Either that or we shall ride northward and attack the gate ourselves.”

His squire was about to speak, when Lord Denys Ryger rode forth and spoke. “My prince there has been word from the northern part of the road. It appears that Ser Marq and his party have run into trouble.”

Tristifer’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of trouble?”

“Clansmen. It appears Royce has managed to gain the alliance and trust of the clansmen and as such has sent them out as the scouting party.” Ryger replies.

Tristifer curses and then says. “Very well then, we must ride forth and deal with them. That is the only way Royce and his men will come out of their castle.”

“Are you sure that is a wise move my prince? The clansmen know these parts better than even Royce does, there is a chance that they might sneak up on us from behind and take us hard.” Ryger says.

“Aye that is a risk, but is one we must take if we want to hold our own now.” Tristifer says. Ryger nods and then Tristifer raises mace up and says loudly. “Men of the Riverlands we ride northward, toward glory. We have some sheep fuckers to kill!”

His men roar and then they are riding hard and fast towards the northward part of the High Road. When they arrive, battle has already begun. The clansmen of the Vale fight with rudimentary weapons but they are fierce and Tristifer can see that his own men under Ser Marq are being overwhelmed. Tristifer roars a command and then he is in the thick of battle. He swings his mace and knocks clansmen to the ground, before the man gets up, Tristifer has moved on swinging his mace left, right and centre bringing men down and then watching as they are crushed under the weight of the horses from the Riverlands. Tristifer swings and men fall, he blocks and then feels the pain as spears poke through the gap in his defence, but still the enemy fall down and are trampled to death.

 The push continues though, and so the fighting picks up in speed and strength and soon enough Tristifer is covered in mud, dirt and blood and is fighting like he has never fought before. Swinging his mace for all he is worth, he swings left, swings right, and then swings left again on and on the push goes, through and through, swinging mace left right and centre. He takes a fair few blows himself but still he pushes on, swinging and denting, swinging and crushing. The clansmen are getting fewer but still they come swathing through fighting till the last man. To his left he hears a bone curdling scream and turns round just in time to see his squire Marc brought down a spear through his throat. Something takes hold of Tristifer then, he sees red and begins swinging his mace like a mad man. It matters not who comes before him, if they stand in his way they are brought down and killed.

Eventually the clansmen are either dead or fled, but then the sound of hooves are heard in the distance and as Tristifer sees the dust clouds settle, the banners of House Arryn and House Royce can be seen. Ser Adam Royce and his men have arrived, the true fight has only just begun.


	7. Outlaw Torn

**Fourth Month of 699 BC Highgarden**

**King Gyles IV Gardener**

He was old now, so very, very old he had turned ninety one some days back, he could barely see, barely hear, barely walk barely go to the privy without assistance and yet his mind was as sharp as it had been when he had been twenty and one. He supposed that was the cruellest thing that the gods had done, Gyles Gardener had ruled as King of the Reach since his father had fallen in battle when he had been but ten years old. Gyles had restored the Reach to greatness warring with the Dornish and killing many of their nobles in what was now known as the raiding wars, he had fought with the Lannisters and destroyed most of their strength, he had smashed the Ironborn at the Arbor and taken that piece of land back, and he had fought the Stormkings and brought them to an inch of death. He had been a great warrior and commander in his day, but now he was old and grey, but his lands were at peace.

His family was big, three daughters and a son had seen him as relation to the more important part of the reach and they had had a fair few children of their own leaving him as the ancestor of half of the reach, the other half, well they weren’t important enough for the greenhand. His daughters had made good matches and seemed happy in their marriages, his grandchildren and great grandchildren seemed quite content as well. His son and heir Garth was another matter, the lad was headstrong and stubborn even now, aged fifty, that he was still quite muscular and strong did not help matters and the lad often thought he had the right of things even when he didn’t. Gyles worried about him and what would happen to the Reach once he was gone.

Just now though there was a war or wars that he needed to plan and so Garth and his steward Ser Mace Tyrell as well as his right hand Ser Quentyn Flowers were present to discuss plans. “It has been many years since the Reach has warred with another kingdom. We have not had need to, the Lannisters were weakened for a good four generations after our war, and the Ironborn have been planting daisies for many years now. But of course now there are whisperings and rumours, and my friends of old write to me that there are stirrings. The Ironborn still hold the shield islands, and that is an offense to me, and to my ancestors. I mean to see that ended. The Stormking has control of the Duskendale bay and grows cockier with every year that passes. There will never been another opportunity such as this to strike hard and fast and to deal blows to our enemies.”

Ser Mace spoke then. “Plans have been drawn up to begin targeting the weakest areas and places where our opponents shall not be able to hit back hard. The Shield Islands for one, they are very weak and can be taken with the right amount of thought and planning. The Hoares are focusing on the Westerlands right now and as such will not be concerned with the lands they have long since forgotten about. Quick seek and take tactics will work there, the Lords of those islands are facing mutiny and their reacher counterpoints are looking for aid.”

Gyles spoke up then. “Garth you shall take command of 20,000 men and rally them and take the Shield Islands. Do it quickly and promptly, leave the Ironborn no chance to retaliate and we shall be secure. Redwyne will go with you with his fleet.”

His nods and then Ser Mace begins speaking once more. “King Durran Durrandon is more focused on invading the Riverlands than on actually waging war with us at present. We shall take charge on this now rather than wait for him to see what we are doing. Men are gathering at Bitterbridge and Ashford and Cider Hall ready and waiting to strike hard and fast and to take command over the Marches and the southern Stormlands.”

“Why the southern Stormlands father?” Garth asks.

Gyles coughs. “Because they are ripe for the taking and because we have family there who need protecting from Durrandon tyranny.”

Garth nods and then Mace continues. “And finally the southern riverlands are also open for the taking. King Tristifer Teague focuses on the Bloody Gate and he shall be very occupied focussing on dealing with Durran that he will not suspect an attack on his southern front. Everything up to and beyond the Stoney Sept is up for grabs.”

Gyles speaks again. “The High Septon has consented to allowing this plan to come to fruition. Mace shall take command of the host attacking the Riverlands. Ser Quentyn you shall take the Stormlands. I want this to be done quickly and effectively. I want those lords who fight to be killed, those that bend and surrender shall be pardoned and allowed to keep their titles.”

Garth speaks up again then and asks. “And what of Dorne father?”

“What of it? They are waging their own wars with one another. Dorne is a husk of what it once was. There is nothing in that desert wasteland for us to conquer. And besides unless the Rhoynar triumph there is no fun in waging war with them.” Gyles responds.

His son looks troubled and asks. “So then why are we waging these wars then father? For your amusement?”

Gyles’ mouth tightens. “No we are waging these wars because we must expand our borders and secure them if we are to have peace for the rest of my life and for the whole of your reign. I will not have my grandchildren and people constantly at the risk of war.” Mercifully Garth says nothing to that and Gyles turns to Mace and says. “Send the ravens out, I want men marching by the end of the month.”

 


	8. Stormgod

**Fifth Month of 699 BC Lathwell**

**King Durran III Durrandon**

Rain petered down as they marched, battles had been fought in this campaign and they had suffered a fair few losses, at the border of their newly acquired lands and the Riverlands fighting had ensued and they had won but with a great cost. Durran’s brother Alric was dead, his sons slain, Lord Gareth Harroway had seen to that. Durran had gotten his own back at the battle of the free fall slaying half a dozen rivermen and killing and plundering through Tristifer Teague’s lands. The age old rivalry between their two kingdoms was renewed and gods did it feel good to be back out warring again. Though it had only been a year since they had taken the Crownlands Durran had grown bored sitting in Storm’s End with nothing to do his lands were at peace the Darklyns had bent the knee as had their lords and they were doing nothing to disturb the peace. It had become boring being king. This war gave him something to do, some sort of purpose.

Battle that was what he was made for, it pumped through his veins. He had no head for intrigue or for household stuff that was what his wife was for. He was born and bred on the battlefield, give him his hammer and a host of men and he would give you a victory or a defeat. That was what Durran knew how to do, that was what his father had known how to, and his father before him. Durran was determined to see the Stormkings empire grown until in encompassed most if not all of Westeros, he would see it under the stag and he would see it in his lifetime. The Riverlords had dispersed, they had not yet taken the Bloody Gate, dealing with Valemen and potentially facing an invasion from the Reach, King Tristifer’s attention seemed to be drifting and Durran meant to take advantage of that.

Lathwell was a field in the middle of nowhere, between Maidenpool and the Trident it was, where the bats and the Lothstons lived, there were no Lothstons to be seen here though, and either dead or fled they were. Durran had made this sight his camp, and though it rained more than could be healthy, he and his men all 20,000 of them waited, and they waited. Soon enough they would come and then there would be more battle. They waited for hours in the pouring rain and when the men came, the enemy came it was Mooton leading them not Teague but it made no matter, Mooton came with 10,000 men not enough to openly challenge and beat Durran and he would make sure to make short work of them.

The fighting made Durran’s blood sing, this was always what he had been meant to do. Swinging his hammer and laughing with delight as it crushed one man after another’s skull or chest in, howling and fighting, swinging his hammer with all his might, the hammer his father had wielded and his father before him and going back for many generations. On they fought, swinging and fighting, blocking and pushing, the charge went on and on, the bodies piled high and the ground stained with blood. Still they fought on and on they fought, swinging and crushing and hacking and slashing. They fought on and on and on and on.

On the fighting went swinging, Durran took his fair share of blows and dealt them out in equal measure crushing men and green boys, keeping an eye on his son and heir Boremund, the boy couldn’t die, he would not allow it. On he pushed swinging and crushing, blocking and dodging, he dealt death out and watched his handiwork beginning to shrink the number of rivermen they were facing. He passed Lord Mooton’ standard in the dirt as he raced through the fighting, laughing all the while  He found Lord Mooton sometime later as well face down in the dirt his body covered in blows and blood pouring out of him.

The host they faced melted into the rain once they learnt of their fallen leader, and though everything in Durran screamed for them to give chase, he waited to see what would happen. Sure enough another host arrived this time carrying the banner of House Teague, and the King himself with his trident leading them. The fighting brought new men for Durran to kill though he himself was tired, he still swung his hammer with all his strength landing crushing blows as he went, adding to the body count and laughing all the while. He took an arrow to his right arm and that limited his movement somewhat but still he pushed on, swinging the hammer less brutally but still swinging it all the same.

As the rain became heavier, Durran’s vision became less clear, his horse lost its footing a little and then regained it, and in that time, as Durran stared the ground in the face, he was attacked by spears and by arrows, a few of which missed, a few which struck their mark and some which he knew not where they went. Pain was coursing through his veins now, his every move caused him to grimace and yet still he pushed on, once his horse had righted itself he slew more and more Rivermen, though he could not hear the sounds of his men fighting.

The arrows began hitting him hard, his hands were growing weaker and weaker, and the hammer dropped from his grasp. They continued flying and he continued to get hit unable to do a thing, unable to move now and unable to feel anything but the pain coursing through his body. The arrows struck him again and again, he began laughing then yelling for them to hurry up and finish the job, and then one struck him through his helm and in the eye and he yelled. The last thing he felt was an arrow through his chest and then the world turned black and he knew no more.


	9. Hammer and Tongs

**Ninth Month of 699 BC Bloody Gate**

**Prince Tristifer Teague**

The Gate had held through many wars through the years, it had prevented many an invasion attempt of the Vale and it had allowed the Arryns to run rampant through the riverlands for many years as well. That was the reason why Tristifer’s father and King had decided that they needed the gate to secure their border on the eastern front. It had been a long hard slog trying to take the gate, Ser Royce the knight of the gate had known about their plan somehow and had broken and beaten the host led by Piper. Tristifer had led a long hard slog through the High Road against Royce and they had lost many good men during that, at one point it had looked as if they would not be able to push through the High Road, had it not been for Edmyn and his men appearing at the right moment Tristifer was sure that they would have lost the battle.

As it was Edmyn and his men had provided the extra incentive that had allowed them to overwhelm Royce and his men thus claiming the High Road and then later the Bloody Gate. However, the Bloody Gate itself had provided its own challenges, the servants within the castle did all they could to undermine Tristifer and his brother and their men, and at every turn there were questions being raised of the actual sense in remaining in the Gate. Of course Ser Horbert Arryn cousin to King Osgood assembled a host and led it towards the Gate and the fighting had continued. A siege of the gate could last between a month and a few years, as it was Tristifer had been very surprised that the siege had not lasted a year given the lack of hospitality that they were receiving at the castle.

He had led a sortie out to deal with part of the host Arryn commanded and that had been fierce, fighting and swinging and dying. The fighting had been furious and eventually Tristifer had managed to fight and kill Ser Horbert in single combat, a victory that he felt was well earned, though it came at a price. The people within the castle mutinied and forced Edmyn to flee with his men back to the High Road, and Lord Jasper Royce retook the castle. And for the next few months the castle changed hands at regular intervals, until finally during the night of the knives, an insider they had killed Lord Royce and his sons leaving the castle without a suitable garrison, and allowing them to retake it.

And so they had fought off whatever other men King Osgood had sent to retake the castle, for the last month there had been no fighting though due to the fact that the Sistermen had rebelled and the Arryn King had left to deal with them as well as the pirates threatening his southern coast. The lack of outside restriction had allowed news to filter into the Gate and as such they had called a meeting to discuss all that was happening. Edmyn spoke first as was his custom. “The news we have received from the Riverlands is quite disturbing. The Durrandons invaded and would have taken Maidenpool had it not been for our father and his men. King Durran is dead, his brother Prince Alric slain along with the man’s sons. King Boremund is our prisoner and the Stormlords have fled back to their kingdom in disarray facing an invasion by the Reach. But there is another threat we are facing, King Gyles has sent his steward into our southern border and the man and his men are causing a fair bit of damage to the lands close to the Stoney Sept. There have already been many battles but it does not seem as if we are gaining purchase.”

Tristifer spoke then. “Our lands are burning and our people are losing hope. Our father is gravely injured but would like for more to be done. Lord Walder Frey has marched south with a host of men joined by Lord Tully, but so far there is no certainty that they will make a difference we must move our strength from here to there.”

Lord Darry spoke then voicing caution. “We do not know how secure we are here yet Your Graces. We cannot move towards the riverlands just yet, not until we know that we can hold the Gate without any more coups.”

Tristifer waves that away dismissively. “Whatever allies the Arryns had here have been killed or have fled. We have our own men holding the passageways in and out of the castle, and we have found all possible secret entrances into the castle. Even if they wanted to, they could not do more than lay siege to us. And they will not do that. I will stay and hold the castle, I believe we must aid father against the Reachermen.”

Edmyn voices his agreement. “Indeed. It is necessary to hold the gate but it is also necessary that we take the fight to the Reacherlords and allow the king and the rest of the lords a chance to recuperate and rest. For soon enough there will be more fighting. Besides Tyrell is not the soundest of minds.  There are things we can do that will unseat and unsettle him and leave him vulnerable.”

Lord Darry speaks again. “And when would you wish to leave Your Grace?”

Edmyn is silent a moment and then he says. “Soon enough, we must secure the outer reaches and make sure the High Road remains ours. Once that is done we can move. I will take 3,000 men from here and leave the rest for Tristifer to hold the castle.”

Lord Darry nods and then Ser Kyle Rivers asks. “And what of the prisoners we have taken during this conflict what shall happen to them?”

Tristifer speaks then. “Those who prove useful shall be sent north to take the black or shall be used here to hold the castle. Those who don’t will die.”


	10. Bring Down

**Eleventh Month of 699 B.C. Trident Keep**

**King Tristifer VI Teague**

At night he can still hear the sounds of men fighting and dying, behind his eyelids he can see the fire and blood of battle. The Reacherlords had come marching into the Riverlands with fire and steel, trying to further the kingdom of the greedy old bugger Gyles Gardener, and Tristifer had summoned what men he had left after dealing with the Stormlords and their prince and marched towards the Stoney Sept. The battles had gone forth for many months, with control of the town passing backwards and forwards like something from a child’s game. Mace Tyrell the man given command of the Gardener host was a competent commander even if he did reuse many of the same strategies. It was this fact that allowed Tristifer to begin constructing guerrilla attacks on Tyrell and his men, draining away their supplies and morale and beginning the ending of their stay.

Of course the Reach always had had a massive amount of men to call upon and so more and more men came and began causing havoc around the rest of the southern riverlands. Tristifer had found himself caught between a rock and a hard place, his boys were still fighting to hold the Bloody Gate, and so he’d called upon every last reserve had at his disposal and thrown it at the reacherlords. They’d come very close to losing their lives during the battle of the summer ash, as the sheer number of men Mace Tyrell now commanded was coming close to overwhelming them, it had been pure luck that a rainstorm had caused the Rush to flood and drown horses. That chance of fate had allowed Edmyn and his men to come and add some sort of benefit and protection to their fight and they had eventually broken the Gardener host and slain Mace Tyrell and captured the man’s son adding to their list of highborn hostages.

Tristifer had led campaigns to secure the southern riverlands and was planning on building a fortress at the Sept that could hold back invaders, as such the Reachermen were now to busy focussing on fighting the Ironborn, the Westerlords and the Dornish. And as such Tristifer had allowed his men to return home for a brief period, but now with the Gate secure and belonging to them, it was time for him to secure the borders to his west. “So long as the Golden Tooth remains in the hands of the Leffords and they remain loyal to the Lannisters, are western front is under threat and we risk facing attacks at every chance. That King Tyrion has now decided to attack the Reach is a bonus for us and it means we can attack now, sooner rather than later.”

Lord Walder Frey spoke then. “Is that a wise move Your Grace? We have just come off of the back of several campaigns in the Vale and against the reacherlords and the Stormlords. Our men will be feeling tired and winter is beginning to wage itself in earnest. Surely we should allow ourselves and our men time to recover before planning another attack?”

“Normally I would agree with you Lord Walder, but this recent bout of fighting has made me consider our options. We will always face threats being the middle kingdom of the seven, and as such we must make sure that we are in the strongest position possible to face these threats. Holding the Tooth and the lands bordering it will ensure this.” Tristifer replied.

Lord Walder spoke up once more. “That is fair enough Your Grace. But I say that we give it at least some more time before launching full on into the campaign. The Lannisters will be watching us now and will be expecting us to do something.”

Edmyn spoke then. “Aye that they will but I say we give them a portion of what they expect to happen. We hit the tooth with a portion of our strength and then break through their defences and work into the Tooth itself. We want the Lannisters tied up when we strike, and I say attacking with the element of surprise is to our gain.”

Lord Darry spoke then. “And what do you suggest be done with the Leffords should they be found not as willing to whatever terms you would offer Your Grace?”

Tristifer looks at his wife’s nephew and says. “If they do not bend they shall die. One daughter shall be left alive for the man who claims the Tooth to wed, the rest shall die. That is the way it has always been and that is the way it shall always be. The Lannisters will send men to take the Tooth back and Lord Lefford himself might return, they shall die.”

“Must they all die though Your Grace? Surely keeping some as hostages might make Lefford and Lannister reconsider storming the keep or using brute force as reparations?” Ser Kyle Rivers asked.

Tristifer looks at the young man knighted by Edmyn and says. “Aye that must be the way of it. Lannister will not simply sit and allow one of his bannermen to live and Lefford will not allow a hostage to stop him reclaiming what he sees as his. We must kill the males and females and leave only one woman alive who can have children for a loyal retainer to wed and sire children to secure our hold over the tooth and protect our border. I do not like it but it must be done.”

Ser Kyle nodded and then asked. “And who will lead the parts of the army Your Grace?”

Tristifer knows why the young knight asks the question, he took a serious injury during the fighting with the Reacherlords and is just about recovering, but this is one conflict that he must fight in, of that he is sure. “Edmyn shall lead the right, Lord Darry you shall command the left, the centre shall be Lord Walder’s, and I shall command the reserve. We shall plan and prepare more thoroughly, though I want scouts sent out, send word to Lord Brynden, it is time we put our plans into action.”


	11. 1,000 Years

**Twelfth Month of 699 B.C. Golden Tooth**

**Ser Lyman Lefford**

Ser Lyman Lefford was an old man, he had just seen his sixtieth nameday and as such could feel the aches and pains in his knees and hands much more than he could a year before. His eyesight was not the best but his mind was sharp, and he knew that was why his great nephew Damon had asked him to command the garrison, his great nephew Damon was Lord of the Tooth and was only seventeen and had answered King Tyrion’s call to arms with much gusto, off fighting somewhere in the Reach. Leaving Lefford and a garrison of old men and green boys to hold the Tooth against any potential invaders, as such the Teagues had ceased that opportunity and were now launching a series of attacks and border raids on the eastern Westerlands. Reports had come in of forces from the Riverlands hitting Deep Den and Hornvale and with those garrisons having been unable to do much but watch as their lands and riches were taken and the rivermen retreated back to their lands or joined with the force that was currently banging at the Tooth’s gates, Lyman knew that one thing would happen.

Lyman had seen his fair share of battles, as a young man he had been one of the finest warriors in the West, swinging his sword and mace with equal gusto and killing all those who had come before him. He had won a great many victories for his brother Adam and his nephew Loren fighting against the Tullys and the Reachermen. He had won his acclaim at Red Lake being the man to kill King Mern Gardener, but that had been many years ago now and he was old and tired, and had very little to live for. His sons were all dead, his grandsons as well, he would hold the Tooth though, he would rather die than allow the Rivermen to take his family’s castle. He would not fail Damon as he had failed the boy’s father before him.

The gates were creaking, Lyman could see that much, his archers were dead or dying, the River King had done his homework and would soon break through. More and more men were dying, and Lyman merely looked on from where he stood in his great nephew’s solar, his armour on and his hand resting on his oldest friend, his sword. “Tell Marc that it is time to allow the gates to break.” Lyman told Maester Theodore.  The man said nothing and merely nodded, a few minutes later, Lyman heard the loud crack as the gates came off their hinges and the gates came falling down. Lyman sighed and walked out of the solar, he came to his great niece’s room. “Stay here Cerenna; there will be guards outside your door. Do not leave until there is silence. Do you understand me?”

His great niece was sixteen and was smart and beautiful, she merely nodded and then said. “Go and give them hell nuncle.”

Lyman smiled and then left the room. As he walked towards the battlements he could hear the sounds of battle , it sounded like music to his ears. He was always a warrior, Adam had been the more academic of the two of them, the one who father had been proud of, but Lyman was alive now and he would not dwell on old regrets. He draws his sword and the door to the battlements flies open as one of his men falls down to the ground an axe through his head. Lyman shoves him out of the way, and moves forward. Sword drawn he begins cutting at the men who run at him, swinging and hacking, cutting them down, and feeling his blood begin to sing. The battle continues and Lyman continues swinging his sword, hacking and slashing.

Through and through he goes his armour gets dented but still he goes on, swinging and hacking, swinging and hacking, he winces with pain on occasion but still he goes on. His sword is dripping red with blood or is that his armour? He’s not sure anymore but still he goes on. The blows become less and his accuracy lessens and his eyesight weakens and soon enough he’s lying on the floor with no memory of how he got there, and then he knows nothing more. Blackness engulfs Ser Lyman Lefford as his castle falls to the Rivermen.


	12. Death of a King

**Twelfth Month of 699 B.C. Golden Tooth**

**King Tristifer VI Teague**

He was dying he knew that, he had taken his fair share of wounds fighting against the old men and green boys that had been left to hold the Tooth, still he had killed a fair few of the bastards in the taking of the castle and his boys had done themselves proud. Ser Lyman Lefford and whatever other Leffords who had been left behind were dead, apart from Cerenna Lefford who Tristifer had decreed was to wed his youngest son Edmure. Those that had been left in the Tooth had bent the knee to Tristifer and his sons and recognised them as their rightful rulers that much he was happy about even if his chest ached and his stomach killed. That much he had done, the borders were secure, they held the Tooth and the Gate and the lands surrounding them, making it that much harder for their enemies to try and reclaim their lost castles or even invade the Riverlands in retaliation.

Dying was getting less and less hard to do now, the room was slipping from visibility, but still he had some things he needed to speak to his sons about. “Edmyn,” he rasped and his eldest son stepped forward. “You will be king now, I have very little time left. You shall be king, rule well and wisely my son. I know you will but, remember not to allow the crown to go to your head and heed council when it is given to you.”

That his son did not bother trying to deny that he was dying, made Tristifer happy, his sons were not fools or liars. All Edmyn said was. “I will father, I promise you I shall make you and mother proud. I shall rule the riverlands and these new lands well.”

Tristifer smiled slightly and coughing said. “I have always been proud of you my son. My firstborn son, I remember the day you were born, like it happened just the other day. You have always done well under pressure. There will be much pressure on you now, you must hold the tooth, show Edmure how to rule and treat him and your brothers and sisters well.”

Edmyn nodded and said simply. “Aye father I will.”

Tristifer smiled and then called for his youngest child and son, Prince Edmure, now Prince of the Tooth. His youngest son was a tall and broad lad with a mop of brown hair and dark eyes, his mother’s son in full, gods he missed Jeyne. “Edmure my son, you have been a boon for me throughout this campaign and I know you will do well. Treasure your wife and the children she gives you. And always listen to the advice given you, and act on what you feel is best even if it does not go well with whatever else others might tell you. Follow your heart and your head.”

His son nods and though his eyes are filled with unshed tears he speaks. “I will father.”

Tristifer nods and then says. “We have lost many good men and boys taking this damnable fortress. Do not let their deaths be in vain. The Lannisters will try and strike hard, but do not let them use these deaths to their advantage. Do not let Edmyn’s boy’s death be in vain Edmure. Hold the Tooth and serve your brother well.”

Edmure nods and then Tristifer speaks once more. “Now let me rest.” He closes his eyes and he sees Jeyne, as she was when he last saw her, beautiful and whole, and she beckons him towards the light.

“Come,” she says. “We have all been waiting for you. You don’t want to keep us waiting do you?”

Tristifer shakes his head, and takes her hand. He dies with a smile on his lips, the unifier.


	13. Ironrod

**First Month of 688 A.C. Trident Keep**

**King Edmyn I Teague**

It had been ten years since he had ascended the throne, ten years since his father’s death during the taking of the Golden Tooth. In that time much had happened, his brother Edmure’s wife Cerenna had given birth to twin boys whom they had named Tristifer and Tyrek thus solidifying their hold on the Tooth and the border lands. The Lannisters though had done as father had thought they would, King Tyrion had died fighting in the Reach, and his much depleted army led by his son King Lancel led a ferocious raid on the lands of the Tooth some four years after the Tooth had fallen to them, Edmure had proven his mettle and with some aid from Houses Tully, Mallister and Piper had managed to beat King Lancel and his men back to the Rock. The Bold Lion as the fool was now called though had not been wise enough to accept the loss of the Tooth, and so over the following years sent many men to either kill Edmure and his family or to simply kill Edmure. After one such attempt Edmyn had decided enough was enough and had called forth the might of the Riverlands had met King Lancel’s host at Sarsfield where the Bold Lion had been killed by Edmure and his two oldest sons slain, his third son was taken hostage, leaving the Rock in the hands of a woman, Queen Regent Jeyne Westerling who formally acknowledged the seceding of the Tooth to the Riverlands.  In the east, the Arryns continued to plague Edmyn’s brother Tristifer and as such Edmyn made common cause with King Harlon Stark and as such they both assaulted the Vale forcing King Denys Arryn to bend and break withdrawing troops from the Gate and acknowledging it as part of the Kingdom of the Riverlands, whilst the war between the north and the Vale over the sisters continued.  As for their relationship with the Stormlands, Boremund Durrandon remained a prisoner in Trident Keep and as such was most likely going to die a prisoner within Edmyn’s home, but his sister Selena remained alive and well and was beginning to muster men and women to march into the Riverlands with which to free her brother. Furthermore the Reach were looking to make more gains in the Riverlands and the Westerlands and King Garth grew hungrier and hungrier to make a name for himself, and the Ironborn continued to look a problem. All in all though their most prominent borders were secure there were still threats facing them.

As to his family, well Edmyn felt that relations with his two brothers had never better. Tristifer had slowed down in most aspects and no longer slept around with whoever took his fancy that night, and he seemed to be showing a keen mind with regards to financial matters and the running of his castle, something that Edmyn had a feeling was to do with his wife, Lady Serena Darry a cousin of theirs who was very good at keeping Edmyn’s oldest brother in order. Edmure was very besotted by his wife and their three children and was turning out to be a very good lord and so far it seemed that he had a good head on his shoulders, something that Edmyn was very proud of. As for Edmyn’s own direct family, well that was an interesting matter, for his eldest son Tristifer had died slain during the taking of the Tooth, and as such had died without ever truly knowing anything of the world. Edmyn’s second son Lyman, was a very somber young man, slow to smile, slower to laugh, and he was a ferocious warrior and someone who drew friends to himself quite quickly despite his withdrawn manner. Lyman had wed Catelyn Tully, who was a smart woman who knew her duties well, and as such Edmyn knew that the two of them would be very good as King and Queen when their time came. Edmyn’s own wife Barbra had died two years ago, from a fever that had swept the Riverlands, and as such Edmyn missed her fierce wit and sharp humour and he missed her in his bed. But alas one moved on.

Right now though he was more interested in listening to what his cousin Lord Edmund Darry had to say, his cousin was a stout man who had once been very muscular, but he had a very, very sharp mind. “Your Grace, myself and my men have done as you asked of us and this is what we have found out. Princess Selena Durrandon has mustered a sizeable army from the Stormlands and whatever lords in Crackclaw point are willing to send their men to her, and it appears she means to march forth sooner rather than later.”

Edmyn nodded and then asked. “And do you know where she will be marching from and where she will look to attack? Surely the daughter of King Durran would not be so foolish as to head straight for Trident Keep?”

Edmund is silent a moment and then he replies. “From what I have gathered she means to march first for Duskendale and the lands sworn to them. She means to give her reasons to the Prince of the Dusk for why he should join her in an alliance against you, Your Grace. If she succeeds in bringing him and his men to her side she shall march not for Trident Keep but for Acorn Hall and Pinkmaiden.”

Edmyn considers this for a moment before asking his son. “Lyman what do you make of this then? What do you believe she means to do?”

Lyman was silent for a very long time considering his words with great care. When he does speak what he says makes a great deal of sense as it often does. “If Princess Selena means to get the Prince of the Dusk’s alliance she shall need to be willing to give herself away in marriage. But from what we have learnt of her, she is very prideful just like her brother and father and as such might consider such a move beneath her. If this is the case then she shall not have her army and as such will need to attack our keep with whatever meagre resources she has. Though if she does get her army, then the attack on Pinkmaiden and Acorn Hall will be a means to draw you out of the keep father and a means for her to try and capture you and get an exchange.”

Edmyn nods at that and says. “Very good. Yes, no doubt that is what she wants to do, and what she wants to happen. It does seem a shame to not let that happen. I want men posted close to our border, and I want an envoy sent to Duskendale, tell the Prince of the Dusk that we shall give him a marriage should he so desire one. Now what other news is there?”

Lord Denys Mallister speaks then. “Ironborn have been spotted on approaching our coasts Your Grace. And my sources say that King Whore has grown bolder and declared that the Riverlands shall be his and his alone.”

Edmyn laughed then. “Very well, let them come, send word to Edmure. I want men prepared and ready, and we shall fight and destroy the squids. Now what more news?”

Lyman speaks up then. “Who do you wish to fight against the Ironborn father?”

“All of us shall be ready to fight son. We must show these seamen what it is to fight on land and we must beat them bloody. We must draw them to land first, and then we shall destroy them.” Edmyn says.

When the raven arrives later that month saying that Seagard has been raided, Edmyn knows his plan has succeeded.


	14. Custer

**Fourth Month 688 B.C. Winterfell**

**King Harlon Stark**

The war with the Vale had ended, finally it had ended. It had taken many years and cost Harlon his brothers and two of his sons, but finally they had finally made the Arryns see sense and the war had come to an end. What had actually started the war in the first place is something that neither Harlon nor Donnel Arryn could actually remember anymore but all they knew was that it had been going for so long that they would need many years before things would ever be good enough between them again. At the end of it all, the Sisters remained in contention and looked as though they were thinking of going independent something that could cause further trouble as the years went by, the peace had been sealed with marriages, Harlon’s third and sole remaining son Brandon would wed Donnel’s daughter Miriam, and Harlon’s daughter Sansa would wed Donnel’s son Jon, and there were concessions on trade and other such things that Harlon hoped would help bridge the gap between their two kingdoms and allow them to prosper and have peace once more.

Harlon’s family had once been very large before the war, his own father Edwyn had had nine children, and they had all had children of their own, but due to various conflicts that number had been reduced somewhat. Harlon’s oldest brother and his most trusted advisor Donnor had died fighting the Teagues, and his other brothers had died during the war against the Vale, and as such Harlon was left having to look after his own children and his brother’s children as well, a very tasking duty, but one he felt he needed to do. As for his own family, well his eldest two sons Benjen and Eyron had died during the  war with the Vale and he missed them deeply, they were both outgoing and confident people and Harlon had loved them deeply, as for his third son and the boy who was now his heir Brandon, he knew his son not at all, Brandon was young only twelve and was quiet and withdrawn. It would take some time before Harlon felt confident enough to leave the winter kingdom in his hands.

Right now though he had to deal with other matters that were beginning to grow out of hand. Speaking with his advisors he took stock of the situation in the north. “Lord Hornwood has written of seeing men mustering at the Dreadfort, and for what reason he knows not, for he has sent many ravens to the Dreadfort but received nothing in reply.” Maester Dedrick says.

“It could be that there are wildlings troubling him or that he is dealing with bandits. After all Lord Bolton did provide a fair few men when we were struggling in the Vale. It would not be right to assume that he means to rebel.” Harlon said.

“This might be a different matter though Your Grace.” Lewyn Cassel says then. “I have been hearing from my sources in the Dreadfort that Jonnel Bolton has been speaking of various things to do with the ancient past and has been speaking of flaying wolves a lot recently. Some have written that off as the ravings of a mad man, others are starting to take note of what he says.”

Harlon sighs and says. “Jonnel Bolton has always been mad, he often would speak of doing various things to members of the family whenever he had been in his cups. I had often thought father should have had him removed from power. But then again we cannot make a move on him simply for speaking in rants.”

“It might be wise to have more than just one set of ears listening to what it is Bolton is saying Your Grace. After all we all know the history that his family has with Winterfell, and furthermore there might be a chance that the Greystarks also take up with him this time round.” Lewyn says.

Harlon looks at the man and asks. “What have you heard?”

Lewyn looks at him a moment and then replies. “Lord Maron Greystark has been travelling to the Dreadfort a lot as of late, and has been heard saying to his own family that perhaps it is time for the Greystarks to become the only Starks left. The man is growing more and more discontent with how things have been going for him as of late.”

Harlon sighed. “Very well then, keep your sources close to the man and we shall take it from there. Should anything happen we must act swiftly.”


	15. XIX

**Sixth Month of 684 B.C. Stoney Sept**

**King Edmyn I Teague**

The war with the Ironborn had raged for close to two years, and that was just the constant stream of attacks and raids that they had put on Seagard, the city had changed hands more than once over the course of those two years, and the Mallisters had been left with just two members at the end of it, Lady Donella Mallister and her little son Lord Jason Mallister, Lady Donella had been the wife of Ser Edmund Mallister a distant cousin of the main branch and as such had been named regent and warden of the western seas by Edmyn after the Ironborn had been beaten back. That the Ironborn had only managed to hold Seagard for a few months at a time during the two year war and had never managed to conquer other parts of the Riverlands made Edmyn feel a lot happier and secure, but still they had lost a lot of good men during the fighting and the Ironborn themselves were now on their last legs as far as the Hoare royal family was concerned. Edmyn was sure that they would not be a problem.

The war with the Ironborn had once again brought Edmyn and his brothers close together, Tristifer seemed to have definitely mellowed after his marriage and having children, that he kept the Bloody Gate under strict control and that his own men were fiercely loyal to him, was confirmation for Edmyn that his oldest brother was doing well and was no longer as worrying a head case as he might once have been. As for Edmure, well there were reports that Edmyn was hearing about the way his little brother was keeping his people in line that made Edmyn feel very uncomfortable and uncertain if he truly wanted to know the complete truth as to how his brother operated his keep. Of course there was the fact that there had been no reports of trouble or uprisings in the Tooth and its neighbouring lands so Edmyn was content to keep it as it was.  Lyman, Edmyn’s second son and his heir was steadily growing into a good man and capable ruler, he had already demonstrated a shrew mind and a good head for tactics in dealing with some of the stray Ironborn that had been left in the Riverlands as well as with the nobles who had been causing them problems, Edmyn himself was feeling quite ill as of late but still felt it necessary for his heir to get to know his people.

Right now though there was the issue of yet another war with the Reach. It appeared King Garth Gardener had decided that now was the time to try and take the riverlands once more, even if he would be sorely beaten as he was currently being beaten out in the fields south of the Stoney Sept. Still the man was a pressing concern and despite his illness and his uncertainty, Edmyn had moved from his sickbed and had called a war council, the men present were Lyman, his brothers Tristifer and Edmure and Lords Tully, Bracken, Blackwood and Darry. Edmyn spoke first. “The Gardeners are growing bold, they seek to take our lands from us once more, but Garth is not his father and he is rash and will likely alienate some of his key bannermen when the time comes to it. Still what word have our scouts brought us?”

Lord Darry spoke then. “Gardener has called most of his active force towards marching here Your Grace. Some 40,000 men are marching as we speak towards the Stoney Sept. My son Damon is doing his best to sway them and break their ranks but it does appear as if they will be upon us soon enough.”

Edmyn nodded and then asked. “And have your men been able to find out where the rest of Gardener’s strength is? If the man means to bring us into the fold, then surely he does not expect to be able to do it with just 40,000 men? We held him off as well as Durran and the Ironborn for many years with fewer men.”

Lord Blackwood speaks up then. “There has been some murmuring that has reached my ears, that some of Gardener’s men are not happy with him, and that they wish for a new king. It does appear as though some are looking to put the Florents out on the seat of kings in the Reach. Florent though insists that he wants no throne and has sent all of his strength with Gardener. There might be a chance to cause chaos there.”

Edmyn perked up at that and then turned to his goodbrother. “Jonos, you have friends in the Reach do you not?” When his goodbrother nods he goes on. “Get in contact with them and tell them that if they want a new king then we shall support them. It is time for us to break the Gardeners, we shall do this here on the field of battle and the man’s allies shall do it in the Reach through politics.”

Jonos Bracken Lord of Stone Hedge speaks then and asks. “Is that wise Your Grace? We are not loved in the Reach and I am sure that men like Tarly and Rowan would rather vie for power than allow something like an outsider decide the course of their kingdom.”

Edmyn smiles then and says. “Men often act in strange ways when power is dangled in front of them. Make the offer and see what happens.”

There was some murmuring at that and then Edmure spoke up his voice cut to the point. “And who will lead the men to battle when it finally does come to that brother? Given that you are quite ill?”

Edmyn looks at his brother and wonders when his little brother became such a grim man, and decides he does not want to know. In response to his brother’s question he merely says. “Jonos shall command the van, Tristifer the centre, Lyman the left, Lord Darry shall command the right and Lord Blackwood shall command the reserve. I shall fight if I am able, if not I shall remain here and command from the castle.”

Just as he has finished speaking a man enters the tent and says. “Banners have been sighted Your Grace. Gardener banners.”


	16. Goodbye

**Seventh Month of 684 B.C. Stoney Sept**

**Lord Alan Tarly**

His king had asked for war to be waged, he wanted to complete the task his father had started and failed in. Alan had tried to tell his king what a doomed mission it was, and yet the man’s wildness though tamed often came through when discussing battle, and with all Gardeners he was stubborn and strong minded till the last. The man clearly had always felt belittled compared to his father and who wouldn’t? The man’s father had been godlike and near indestructible, the fact that he had reigned for so long only added to that fact. King Garth was a stripling in comparison and one whose ambitions might just cost his family the kingdom, if the rumours Alan had been hearing were true.

Right now though there was a battle that needed to be fought and won, and as such Alan was in command of the left, and as he waited for the sounds of horns to come through, he drew Heartsbane from her sheath and admired her glow in the light. The sword was old, older than his family, forged in the flames of Valyria and brought over from an adventurer some claimed was related to the Targaryens of Dragonstone, the truth of that rumour Alan knew not but whatever the truth was, today she would see some blood. Just at that thought the horns sounded and Alan raised Heartsbane high into the air and roared. “Let’s go kill us some fishes.” And the charge began, Lord Tyrell had broken the Teagues right hand side, and as such that meant that there was less push for Alan to give, he swung his sword and revelled in the sound of Heartsbane smashing into his foes.

For the next few hours Alan lost himself to the heat of battle. Heartsbane sung with blood, each blow Alan struck against the foe seemed to make her glow in the light, he swung and swung and he felt like the warrior come to life. He swung his sword, and watched men fall about him, on and on it went, swinging and hacking, laughing in delight as more and more men fell before him. The battle lust was upon him and he allowed it to overtake him, swinging his sword like a man possessed. As more and more men fell to Heartsbane he laughed and laughed and became drunk on the proceeds of battle, on he and his men pushed breaking through the Teagues left flank as Tyrell and Fossoway broke through the right flank and the king pushed towards where the Teagues themselves were.

As with everything though for all that Alan pushes on, he gets some of the strength hit back at him. He comes across Prince Tristifer Teague and he takes a severe beating there, the man clearly showing how skilled a warrior he was blocking most of Alan’s swings and giving more of his own, Alan feels his armour dent in many places and feels blood begin pouring out of the dents that the man has created.  On they fought, swinging at one another, sometimes connecting other times having their blows blocked by the other, on and on it went, till sweat and blood and dirt became mingled together on their armour, and they still fought.  It was by pure chance that Prince Tristifer’s horse caught in mud and slipped allowing Alan to shove his sword through the man’s throat ending his life and breaking through the last vestiges of the Teague left flank.

Alan rides past Tristifer’s lifeless body and moves on, blood dripping from many parts of his armour, a squire comes and finds him and gives him good news and bad news. “My lord,” the boy whom Alan identifies as the King’s own nephew Lewyn speaks. “I have brought word from Prince Leyton.” The boy pauses and Alan gestures impatiently for him to go on. The boy swallows and then says. “King Edmyn Teague and his heir Prince Lyman are both dead slain by King Garth.”

Alan smiles then that is good news indeed. But then he notices the slight hesitancy in the boy’s voice and asks. “And what more news is there lad? You said you had more news?”

The boy swallows and then says. “King Garth is dead my lord. Slain whilst fighting off Prince Edmure. His son King Leyton is demanding that we ride hard for the Trident Keep.”

Alan takes a moment to let that digest and then he says. “Very well then.” He turns to his men and bellows. “WE RIDE ON. LETS SHOW THESE FISH HOW HARD WE FIGHT!”

At the ensuing roar from his men he pushes on and thinks to himself, now is his chance to shine and bring about the end of the Teagues and perhaps the Gardeners.


	17. Siege

**Ninth Month of 684 BC.C Trident Keep**

**Prince Edmure Teague**

His two brothers and his nephew were dead slain in the field of battle by Garth Gardener but the man himself was also dead. The battle of Stoney Sept had been a broken and chaotic thing even before then, and Edmure wished that Edmyn had remained in Trident Keep rather than try and play the hero one last time, but alas that had not happened and now Edmure was left trying to deal with the mess that had been left behind. Leyton Gardener the new King of the Reach had taken his forces and led a charge that had very nearly broken all of the Teague host but Edmure through some miracle had managed to hold enough men together to bring them back to Trident Keep, with Gardener and his men hot on their heels. For the past two months they had been under siege and though some of his great nephew Tristifer’s bannermen such as the Brackens and Darrys had been harrying the Gardeners and their men, there was not much else that they could do.

As the days turned into months Edmure would sit in what was once his brother’s solar and read reports and sometimes he would stand on the battlements and see his brother’s lands wither and die under the heat and intensity of the Reach and their men. There had been some skirmishes in the beginning of the siege, but just now, it was beginning to die down, winter was returning and with it the urge to have long lasting combat was leaving the will of men. Edmure grew more and more impatient though, he was not made for sitting around waiting on a siege, he wished to return to his wife and children and come away from politics and the conflict that was brewing over the regency.

Right now though he was stuck having yet another meeting with his brother’s wife Bethany, Maester Lorcan as well as with his nephew’s wife Catelyn Tully and the master at arms Ser Roger Rivers.  “They continue to pillage our lands and they are beginning to take our smallfolk away and herd them into the Reach. Something must be done otherwise our bannermen will begin to lose respect for us.” Edmure said for what was not the first time.

“What do you suggest we do Edmure? We cannot afford to allow even one of our men out of the gates, for we need all the able bodied men inside the castle to protect us from any potential breaches. We cannot afford to lose anything.” Bethany said reasonable as ever.

“If I might speak Your Grace?” Ser Roger asked polite as ever. When Bethany gave her consent, the grizzled master at arms spoke frankly. “The men grow impatient. They do nothing here in the castle, and they want to fight for their families and for their king. They do not want to waste away here, when they could actively make a difference.”

Princess Catelyn spoke then her voice filled with disgust. “Are men so eager to die that they wish to fight a battle that they cannot surely hope to win? There are some 15,000 men outside our gates and another 20,000 men are marching up from the Reach if what we have heard is correct. There is no way that we shall be able to best them in the field. We must wait it out and wait for winter to do its work.”

Edmure looked at his niece then and said. “That might be true for you Princess. But for men, we are bred for fighting and we cannot go without a fight. We may not even need to send all of our men out to fight, just the one man and we can settle this once and for all.”

Maester Lorcan spoke up then. “What Prince Edmure says is true. But the question is what course of action would this one man take?”

Edmure smiled then, a sly thing. “I suggest single combat with Leyton Gardener. If the boy is as head strong as his father was he will not be able to refuse such an offer and will feel it necessary to accept such a thing.”

“And who do you suggest be our champion for this?” Bethany asks.

Edmure smiles at that and says. “Why me of course.”

There was much discussion after that but eventually it was agreed that Edmure would be the one to challenge King Leyton Gardener to a duel to end the siege, a fight to the death, should Edmure win then the Gardener troops would have to return back to the Reach and promise never to invade the riverlands again, and should Leyton win well, Edmure did not want to think on that and had already made plans to make sure that the worst happen his brother’s wife and grandsons could make it the Tooth or the Gate with relative ease.  Sometime later, Edmure was dressed in red armour his sword in his hand, as King Leyton Gardener dressed in an absurd suit of green armour walked forward, the boy had a smirk on his face and said loud enough for the crowd that had gathered to hear. “Ready to die old man?”

Edmure said nothing and merely moved forward and the fight begun. Leyton Gardener was a green boy and as such made all the mistakes common to green boys he swung hard and fast throughout the early bouts of their fight so much so that Edmure was quickly able to figure out what his pattern was and was able to wear him down very easily. Once the man had started panting Edmure picked up the attack swinging and hacking and beating away at Gardener’s defences. On and on he went swinging and hacking, cutting and denting armour, drawing blood and breaking through whatever defences the boy had.

Gardener grew angry and the fight broke out once more, Edmure took his fair share of blows and dents and cuts but on and on it went. Edmure swung and hacked and kept on doing so until he had beaten Leyton Gardener to his knees. Raising his sword high into the air he brought it down and cut Gardener in half breaking the man and ending the siege. He shouted for all to hear. “Leyton Gardener is dead. The Reach must now follow the terms that your king agreed to. Leave peacefully and you shall be spared more pain.”


	18. Lech

**Second Month of 685 B.C Winterfell**

**King Harlon Stark**

There were times at night and even during the day where Harlon could still hear the screams of the men as they had died during the battles against the Boltons and their followers. SO many good men had died fighting that war simply because Jonnel Bolton wanted to bring back the ways of the Red Kings, the man had always been mad, but this time his madness had nearly bled the north dry. That the man had retreated back to the Dreadfort with Maron Greystark a man Harlon had once thought a brother had only added to the pain and pressure Harlon had felt. And so for two years he had laid siege to the Dreadfort cutting of their food supplies and their access to the outside world hoping and hoping that eventually someone within the castle itself would break the man down. They did not, and eventually Harlon had to send the man an ultimatum, surrender or his whole house would die, that eventually did it and Jonnel Bolton dipped his banners and came out. Harlon executed the man and his sons and took his young daughter as a hostage. Maron Greystark though had fled in the confusion following the surrendering of the Dreadfort and had returned to the Wolf’s Den.

Alas Maron would not get the reprieve he had clearly so desperately wanted, Ser Wyman Manderly had marched his own men from their castle into the Wolf’s Den and taken Maron’s family hostage. Harlon soon marched his own men towards the Wolf’s Den where Maron and the rest of the Greystarks were brought before him in chains, and in the ways of his forefathers he passed the sentence of death over them and brought it upon them, men women and children, all of them died by his hands and their ghosts haunt him still to this day. Still Ser Wyman had become Lord Wyman and Harlon had named him Lord of the Wolf’s Den and had decreed that he may do what he liked with the lands around the Wolf’s Den, and as such the man had begun building a city something that could bring more trade and prosperity to the north.

Then there was the issue of his own succession, Harlon knew he was still a young man, or relatively so, he had just seen his fortieth nameday and as such could still marry and sire sons, but the last of his sons by his wife had died during the war with the Boltons. Brandon, the son he had never truly come to know or understand had died a spear through the chest a long way from home. Harlon’s new heir was his brother’s second son Donnor, a boy of fifteen who was solemn and grim but determined and capable. Harlon had begun including him in his council meetings and had begun riding out hunting with him to get a better understanding of his nephew, and so far he liked what he saw. There was the matter of whom he should wed as well and Harlon was convinced that a marriage to Berena Bolton the Lady of the Dreadfort could only be a good thing, though his council members had other ideas.

Which was why they were currently stuck in his solar. “I still say a marriage to Berena Bolton will do the kingdom a world of good. It will finally mean that the Dreadfort is finally in our hands and as such will never be able to rise up against us again, and it means that no other ambitious lord can use Lady Berena against us.”

“Whilst that might be true Your Grace,” Maester Denys said. “There will always be the risk that by having Prince Donnor wed Lady Berena, some of your bannermen might feel as if you are trying to increase a monopoly over them and they might rebel against that. Why not have her wed one of your most loyal bannermen and have Prince Donnor wed a daughter of another loyal bannerman? Or if not them then a cousin?”

Harlon sighs then and says. “That last option would be a good choice were it not for the fact that the family is growing slowly more and more inward as time progresses. The past few years have been hard for us and we cannot afford to remain married to ourselves, we must continue marrying our bannermen and we must do so with those who would seek to cause us trouble.”

“Then why not have Prince Donnor wed Lady Jorelle Ironsmith? House Ironsmith has done much as of late to make sure that there is always a chance for the North to survive through winter.” Maester Denys said.

Donnor speaks then his tone harsh and sharp. “The Ironsmiths? You mean the house that would very likely would have continued fighting for the Boltons had Mad Jonnel not finally been made to see sense? No marrying them against marrying someone such as Lady Berena would be seen as stupid and idiotic and it is not something I wish to do.”

Maester Denys sighed and asked him. “So then who would you prefer to marry Prince Donnor?”

What his nephew says next makes Harlon swell with pride. “I will do what is necessary to ensure peace in the kingdom. If it means I must marry Lady Berena I shall do so. If I must needs wed a daughter of one of the other northern lords I shall. Whatever is needed I shall do my duty.”

Harlon claps his hands then and says. “Well that’s that settled then. Donnor you shall wed Lady Berena at the next available opportunity. Maester Denys if you could send the ravens out as soon as possible announcing this I shall go and speak with the Lady and let her know. Soon enough we shall be able to get over all this chaos from the war.”

As both his nephew and the maester walk out of his solar, Harlon slumps down in his chair and takes a sip of water, the sooner this is done and dusted the sooner he can go north and see to the wall.


	19. AOV

**Fifth Month of 683 B.C. The Eyrie**

**King Jon I Arryn**

He and his wife Sansa had been wed for five years now and in that time though there was not love there, they were fond of one another. Jon could appreciate the benefits that had come from the marriage to Sansa, for one thing it had meant that there was no longer so much tension with Winterfell and the north as a whole and it also meant that Jon had been able to further his understanding of the north, after having spent many hours conversing with his wife and her people who had come with her about the north and its ways. His wife was very smart and shrewd and had managed to charm each and every one of his bannermen so much so that there were times when Jon often wondered if perhaps she should have been the ruling Queen. His wife was also a very good mother, and he knew that his children Elbert, Artys and Jorelle were very lucky to have her as their mother. His children were all still young but he knew they would achieve great things as they grew older of that he was determined to see through.

Of course news that had come from the north in recent years had been anything but happy for Jon and his wife. The Boltons and the Greystarks had rebelled and though their rebellion had been crushed, Sansa’s brother Brandon had died without issue for Jon’s own sister Miriam had died in childbirth trying to give the man an heir. Though Sansa had been upset at her brother’s death, Jon had sensed an opportunity here, with Brandon dead that made his wife her father’s heir, the heir to the northern kingdom. Unless Harlon Stark wed again and had sons Jon and his wife would be the next rulers of the north and a chance to finally strengthen the Vale and the faith. However, those plans had been ended when news had come through  that Harlon Stark the old fool had named his nephew Donnor Stark his heir. The ceremony had been carried out and recognised by the northern lords and accepted by them in a written decree signed by the king and the lords of the north. The strange thing was Sansa had not actually been formally disinherited it was just accepted that she was no longer in the succession.

That angered Jon and was why he had called a meeting of his most important lords and advisors to discuss what needed to be done about the situation. In his solar there was Lord Hubert Royce Lord of Runestone and a close friend, Lord Mychel Redfort a old and cunning man, Ser Edmond Templeton one of the best commanders in the Vale and finally there was Sansa and Maester Coleman. Jon spoke first, his tone harsh. “I will not stand by and allow my goodfather’s decision go unquestioned. What he has done breaks all the rightful laws of Westeros and as such the man must be made to see the error of his ways.”

Lord Hubert spoke then. “Aye what you say is true Your Grace. Harlon Stark must be out of his mind, thinking that he could simply bypass his daughter for a nephew. The boy himself seems to be very content with how things have gone, and yet according to my sources he has done nothing yet to earn the respect and loyalty of the northern lords. His marriage to Lady Berena Bolton has yet to go through and with the north facing a war with the wildlings it is perfectly possible that the man will die before he can go through with the marriage.”

Mychel Redfort spoke then his voice slow. “Even so the northern lords are deeply loyal to Harlon Stark and will not willingly betray him whilst he lives. For any sort of coup or pressing of Queen Sansa’s rights to take place Harlon Stark would need to be dead. And I do not think such a thing can be easily achieved.”

Edmond Templeton voiced agreement. “Aye what Lord Mychel says is true. For whatever it is you have planned to succeed, we would need some sort of miracle or death to happen. Harlon Stark has survived many things over the course of his life and just now I do not think he will fall to anything less than a stab right through the heart.”

His wife spoke up then. “Then perhaps it is time we gave my father that stab through the heart. He has made this decision for whatever reason, and I do not question him in that, but by the laws of the land I should be his heir not my cousin Donnor. My father, I believe thinks or rather wants to believe that I shall lie down and take this without standing up for what is rightfully mine. He is wrong in that, and the only way we can show him is with force.”

Redfort speaks then. “So what do you suggest Your Grace? That we go forth with steel and fire and raid and pillage the home that you wish to claim? What will your lords think?”

Sansa speaks up once more. “I am not suggesting we attack right now. We must wait until the war with the wildlings has finally begun and is in full flow. Then we shall press forth, we must make it look as if we are fighting to save the north from the wildlings and from Donnor. My father will not be sure what to believe.”

Hubert speaks then his voice confident. “There you have it my lords. We have our ways into making the north belong to its rightful Queen. Now all we must do is wait and plan. What do you want done for now Your Grace?”

Jon speaks then and says. “Prepare our men and fleets. We must be ready to set sail at a moment’s notice. For now that is all.” Once the other members of the council are dismissed Jon turns to his wife and asks. “Do you truly believe that this plan will work my lady?”

His wife looks at him a moment and then nods. “I do believe it will. I have my own allies in the north who would not wish to see Donnor on my father’s throne more than they wanted to see my brother on it.”


	20. Civil War

**Seventh Month of 683 B.C.: Trident Keep**

**Princess Regent Catelyn Teague**

There had been times during her marriage to Lyman where she had often wondered why her father had consented to their marriage, Lyman had been a second son never meant for greatness nor the inheritance that had become his once his brother had died. As such he was often very shy and withdrawn, taciturn at the best of times and something not quite approaching hostile at the worst, as such it often made it very hard for her to truly understand what was going on in his head and what he actually thought of things. Not that she would have had much look getting the answer from anyone else for Lyman seemed not to truly have any friends, according to Queen Bethany even as a child he had often been solemn and alone. The only time he had seemed to remove that face of his, was when he was with their children, Tristifer and Edmyn were showered with love and affection and only knew their father as he was with them, they did not see the steel or the ice underneath it all, and for that Catelyn was happy.

Of course her children were growing up very quickly far more than she would like, and that they were growing up in a time of war and uncertainty only added to her fears. Tristifer was already quickly becoming like his father grim and taciturn, never easy to smile and laugh, her eldest was only eleven years old and yet he acted as if he was the man of the house, which he was in a sense. He was very protective of bother herself and her youngest son Edmyn who was wild and ferocious but would always listen to Tristifer even when he would not listen to her. She loved both her boys fiercely and truly wished that they did not have to face such turbulent times now. Not for the first time she shook her head at the foolishness of men. After the war with the Gardeners had ended with King Leyton Gardener’s blood staining her goodbrother’s sword, Edmure had ensured that the armies of the Reach had dispersed back to their flowery seat and then he had taken his men and returned home, telling her that should she need anything she need only ask. Of course the minute he had formally arrived back at the Tooth, the fighting had begun. Her brother Hoster had wanted to help rule the Riverlands along with her, and that had annoyed her husband’s uncle Lord Jonos Bracken had moved forward then with troops and fighting had begun, Blackwood, Darry and Mooton had all joined in.

The fighting had been going on for a year now, her brother was dead, his son had retreated back to Riverrun to plot anew. Bracken and Blackwood waged war outside their keeps, and Darry laid siege to Trident Keep, Mooton was gathering more and more houses to his cause to bring to the fold and as of yet no word had been heard from the Freys or from the Tooth or the Gate. Catelyn was looking through the letters that were coming through, and speaking with Maester Gormon. “We cannot keep going on like this my princess.” The maester said. “We are fast running out of supplies and soon enough the garrison will revolt. Open the gates and let Darry in and end the fighting now.”

Catelyn shook her head it was an old argument. “No, my sons might be related to the Darrys distantly, but that does not mean that this Lord Darry has their best interests at heart. We both know the man is a grasper and would seek to see me  married off so that he can firmly place himself in with my sons. And that is something I cannot allow.”

Maester Gormon sighed then and asked. “Then what will you do Princess? Our supplies run lower each and every moon that goes by and there are letters that suggest Mooton will be coming with an even bigger army than the one he last had. If that does happen then Darry’s host will be broken. And if I may be frank Princess, I would rather have Darry here than Mooton for we all know what sort of beast Mooton is.”

Catelyn was silent for a moment and then she said the words that she had thought she would never had to say. “Mooton might be a beast, but he is one I am confident I can tame. He is someone prone to lusts if his bastards are anything to go by and he and my goodbrother Tristifer used to run together in the same circles when they were younger. He can be seduced to do what I wish. Darry is too stringent and strong to be seduced the one way that could be of benefit.”

Maester Gormon looked shocked at her words. “Surely you cannot mean that Princess? Mooton is a beast and would surely use you and then leave you be, or slit your throat and take power as he sees fit. There can be no two ways about it with him, either there is one thing or nothing. And the man has wanted power ever since he was a boy.”

Catelyn looks at the maester and says. “I will do whatever it takes to see my children safe and sound. If that means kowtowing to a man like Mooton then so be it, rather him than Darry or Frey or any of the others who wish to take away my sons rights. Now enough of this, has there been any word from the Gate or the Tooth?”

Maester Gormon takes the change of topic in his stride and says. “There has been word from the Gate, Prince Beric is mobilising men and is marching as we speak, and promises that once he arrives the situation shall be resolved.” Catelyn snorted her husband’s cousin was a green boy with very little actual martial experience.

“And what of the Tooth?” She asked once more.

Maester Gormon is silent a moment and then he replies. “Prince Edmure writes that he too is bringing the full strength of the Tooth and its lands to the Riverlands, and that soon enough this conflict will be over and done with.”

Catelyn nods and then says. “Good then we hold on for a little while longer.”


	21. Shatter Me

**Ninth Month of 683 B.C. Outside Trident Keep**

**Lord Walys Mooton**

The war for the regency of King Tristifer VII Teague had been waging for a year now, and there had been various victories and various defeats for all the different factions that were part of it all. The Tullys had retreated back to Riverrun and called their men back to Riverrun, the Brackens and the Blackwoods were smashing each other to pieces and were on their last legs, House Frey was caught up in a war with the cranongmen as always and the Darrys were now the only true threat left to Walys’ objectives of obtaining the regency. Edmure Teague and his nephews of the Bloody Gate had done nothing as of yet to suggest they would act in this war, and now Walys had both the Pipers and the Mallisters on his side and his host was growing stronger and stronger by the day. The Durrandons were lending him aid as well, soon enough he would have enough men to take the keep and rule the Riverlands.

“My lord,” His Brother Ser Edmond’s voice interrupted his musings. “There has been word from the scouts. It would appear that we are now closing in on the Darrys.”

Walys nodded and then asked. “How close are we to taking them by surprise?”

His brother was silent a moment and then said. “We are about an hour’s march from them and their host. Lord Darry has placed men out on the outpost to the north and the south, Ser Balon Swann should have taken care of them by the time we get to the eastern side though. And Lord Jeffrey Mallister is pushing towards the southern bank.”

Walys nodded. “This is good, very good. Keep up the good work Edmond and let me know when it comes time for battle to begin.”

His brother nodded and then rode onward, leaving Walys to his thoughts. He knew that if he were successful defeating the Darrys then more than likely the gates of Trident Keep would open and things would go slightly more smoothly from there.  He and Catelyn had always gotten on well, hells they would have been husband and wife had damn Tristifer Teague not had her married off to his damnable grandson. They had known each other since they were little children and her father had been keen on a match but then the fool had died and all had gone wrong. No matter he would right that wrong and rule the riverlands in her son’s name and then he would bring the power and strength back to House Mooton and they would rule all of Westeros.

Soon enough his brother returned and Walys prepared for yet another battle in what had been a long war. He drew himself up to his full height, the men knew who was leading what part of the army, he was commanding the van as always, Lord Mallister was commanding the left, Lord Piper was commanding the right, the centre was commanded by Lord Swann and the reserve was commanded by Walys’ own uncle old Ser Hubert, a veteran of the wars of the fish. Walys roared a command and then the battle truly began, it was evident the Darrys were still trying to deal with Balon Swann and his men, for they were scattered all over the place and were not organised as they often were. Walys swung his hammer left and right, bringing men down as he rode, he rode down some of the men laughing as he went on, swinging and crushing, swinging and crushing. Men fell down to the ground on and on it went the battle roaring onward as Walys’ blood sung with the heat of battle.

On the battle went Walys swung his hammer again and again and the body count grew, they were winning the Darrys were too stretched to truly be able to do anything of use, they were weakening and Walys knew that with one big push Lord Darry and his men would either surrender or die. “Take them hard and fast!” He roared and the push began again, swinging and hammering away on and on it went, swinging and hammering, more and more men died more and more blood was added to his hammer, and his blood sang. No one was able to touch him not today, it was as if the warrior himself was with Walys today, swinging and hammering away crushing men on and on.

The Darrys fought back hard, not budging an inch as Walys and the van pushed onward into the centre of their host where he knew Lord Darry would be, more and more men appeared out of the crevices and hideaways and the fighting Walys watched from atop his horse as his men began falling like flies, Walys himself began taking more and more blows as the men, clearly the best fighters in Darrys army came pouring out and hacking and slashing at him. He took blow after blow his armour beginning to weigh heavily on him, and yet he still moved forward swinging his hammer and bringing it down like thunder on those who came in his path.

On and on the fighting went, and Walys began ploughing through it as if operating automatically, on he swung on and on and still more men came and still they died. Eventually the ploughman of House Darry was beaten and broken, Lord Darry’s head adorned a spike and his army was nothing anymore, Walys rode to the gate of Trident Keep and lifted his helm and roared. “Open the gates, open the gates of Trident Keep to the new Regent of the Riverlands! Open the gates and you shall be spared fire and steel!”

There was silence for a very long moment and then a figure appeared at the top of the battlements, and Walys felt his breathe leave his body, she still looked as beautiful as she had all those years ago. “Lord Mooton, thank you for removing the Darrys from our gates. However, you should know better than to threaten your King with death when you wish to help him rule.”

Walys smiled and said slyly. “Well then I beg my king’s forgiveness but I do think we should speak about what should happen now.”

Catelyn looked at him briefly and then said. “Very well. Raise the gates and I shall speak with you.”


	22. The Smile of the Sun

**Eleventh Month of 683 B.C. Winterfell**

**King Harlon Stark**

The wildlings had certainly proven to be much more of a threat than Harlon or any of his advisors had thought they would be. There had been attempted wildling invasions in the past, during the early years of his reign some Wildling named Tormund Bearbreaker had attempted to bring the Wildlings across the wall but Harlon’s own uncle Benjen had killed the man in single combat beyond the wall and ended that threat long before it had come to be a true one. This time however, the wildlings had been united under two brothers named Gendel and Gorne, the brothers were said to be charismatic and shrewd and clever at turns and good with arms. They had assembled a massive host of wildlings some 60,000 strong and had marched southward from the lands beyond the wall and when they had assaulted the Wall they had broken through the Lord Commander of the Watch Jack Musgood was slain and his commanders were killed, the wildlings then had split into three smaller hosts and had begun raping and pillaging through most of the northern parts of Harlon’s kingdom.

Eventually Harlon’s bannermen had all arrived at Winterfell with the exceptions being the Umbers who were already fighting the wildlings, and the Manderlys and their bannermen who were dealing with pirates and raiders on the coasts of White Harbour. With some 25,000 men Harlon had marched north to face the Wildlings at what had once been Sheephead Hall the seat of his brother in ages past, it was now a smoking ruin and there the battle had been fought. The wildlings had proven strong and had given them a good fight but eventually their lack of discipline had been their undoing and so it was that Harlon had come to find the brothers Gendel and Gorne brought before him in chains, their army scattered and being hunted down by his lords. The brothers were executed and the wildlings that were captured were either executed or given to the Watch and yet there remained wildlings in the north that Harlon had tasked his lords with finding and dealing with.

And now he was to hear reports on that progress. “It has been two months since we last heard from Lord Hornwood. Maester Godrick do you have anything from him that might help us with information on how many wildlings there are left?”

The maester shook his head. “Unfortunately not Your Grace. Though with winter here it is possible that such correspondence might have gotten lost. There has been word from Lord Karstark though, the wildlings haunting the eastern coast have been dealt with and are either dead or heading to the wall as we speak.”

Harlon nodded. “That is good, very good indeed. Now what news Donnor brought us from White Harbour has he been able to ascertain where and why these Pirates are raiding us?”

Maester Godrick speaks once more. “He has indeed. Prince Donnor writes that one of the pirates that was captured told him that they had been employed by the Arryns of the Vale to cause havoc to pave way for an invasion.”

Harlon sighed, but before he could speak Matthos Cassel spoke his voice grim and sharp. “Why on earth would Jon Arryn want to hire pirates for any sort of invasion of the north? Has the boy forgotten the treaty that his father signed?”

Harlon spoke then and his voice held resignation in it. “Because he believes I made an error in naming Donnor my heir and not Sansa. By the laws of the Andals, it should be Sansa who is my heir, but of course I made my decision and she even wrote to say she accepted.”

Matthos speaks then. “And the lords of the north accepted this decision we have the written proof right here in Winterfell itself. Lady Berena has already borne Prince Donnor an heir and has a spare on the way. Jon Arryn cannot hope to bring support for his wife now surely?”

It is then that Helman Tallhart speaks. “Aye that might be the case but even when Prince Brandon lived there were lords who hungered for Sansa to become Queen after His Grace died. Queen Sansa has always been smart and shrewd and less inclined to tolerate insults than her brother was. Prince Donnor is an unknown to the men of the north. Some are already flocking to their banners. Woolfield, Flint of Widow’s Watch they have gone over. Soon more will.”

Harlon sighed. “We cannot allow this to spread. If the Manderlys go over to Arryn we are lost. We must ride out as soon as possible to deal with this problem, this threat. Send word to my bannermen. It is time for the north to finish these bloody falcons once and for all.”

And so the ravens were sent out, and soon enough some 14,000 men answered the call to arms and onward they marched by the time they were greeted outside the gates of White Harbour by Ser Torrhen Manderly, the situation seemed to have grown grim. Ser Torrhen looked haggard and tired. “The Arryns and their men are approaching quickly towards the city Your Grace. Oldcastle has fallen, Ramsgate and Widow’s Watch as well. More and more men come sailing in from the Sisters and there are men turning on my father within the castle.”

Dire news indeed. “How many men can your father muster, with his bannermen gone?” Harlon asks.

Ser Torrhen is silent a moment and then he says. “500 perhaps within the walls the city itself. Anymore and we shall be scraping the barrel.”

Harlon nods and then asks. “And where is my nephew? Where is Prince Donnor?”

Ser Torrhen looks down at that and then hesitates slightly before saying. “Prince Donnor rode out with  the men that he brought with him some three days ago, to bring Ramsgate back into the fold. We have not heard from him since.”

“Then we had best get moving then had we not?” Harlon asks before riding through the gates of the Harbour and into what he hopes will be a loyal city.


	23. The Falcon In the Wolf's Den

**Twelfth Month of 683 B.C. The Wolf’s Den**

**King Jon I Arryn**

The conquest of the north in his wife’s name had been going very smoothly, whilst Harlon Stark had been away fighting the wildlings, Jon had sent pirates from the Stepstones and the sisters to raid the south eastern coast of the north, their combined might had overwhelmed Oldcastle and had also brought them Widow’s Watch. From there the lords of those two castles bent the knee and recognised Sansa as their rightful heir to the northern throne and from there they added men to the cause. Ramsgate fell next and once Ramsgate had fallen, Jon had come in with his men, 20,000 of them and had begun fighting the Manderlys and the Karstarks and the Boltons who had thought to challenge his conquests. Lord Karstark had been slain and Hothar Bolton was now considering switching sides, Lord Dedrick Manderly the craven had fled behind the walls of his newly built city at the first sign of danger and was now under siege.

Of course Jon was not the one leading the siege outside White Harbour’s walls, no that was Lord Corwyn Corbray a man who knew how to play for time. 19,000 men remained outside the gates of White Harbour preventing food and other supplies from coming into the newly built city, whilst Jon and 1,000 men had been led into the Wolf’s Den by Ser Gared Manderly a man who was opportunistic and wanted what was best for himself and his own family. They were now waiting with baited breath to see what would happen now that King Harlon Stark was within the city, Jon wished to strike hard and fast it was a matter of seeing what his bannermen and Ser Gared thought should be done.

“We cannot wait to move for much longer Your Grace.” Ser Denys Grafton said. “Harlon Stark is within the city now, and likely within new castle. We must make a move now or retreat and wait for news about Donnor Stark.”

“Ser Gared assures us that soon enough we shall have all that we need to continue this war. Patience is required in such situations my good Denys. Have a little more and all shall be rewarded.” Jon replied though he was beginning to worry himself.

Still Ser Denys persisted. “How do we know that Ser Gared can be trusted. Yes he allowed us into the Wolf’s Den, but for what? You have not promised him anything Your Grace, not White Harbour and not more land. What does he hope to gain from this venture? He could very likely be leading us to our deaths.”

That was a thought Jon had also had whilst they had waited the week away here in this prison. But he could not voice such things aloud and so he merely said. “We must wait and see what the man has to offer us, otherwise we shall not know. And I will not die wondering.”

As if on cue voices could be heard approaching the chamber where they were sat, instantly Jon looked at Ser Denys and the other men in the chamber and their hands all went to their swords. Their ears perked up at the voices. “Trust me Your Grace, what I have to show you will most definitely help you deal with the invaders.” That was Ser Gared’s voice smooth as silk.

The respondents voice was harsh and grim, Harlon Stark’s. “Why not show me whatever this thing is in your brother’s hall? Why here in this place that now serves as a prison?”

Ser Gared’s voice was smooth  in response. “Trust me Your Grace when I say that it is better if my brother does not see this. Dedrick has not been the same since his wife died.”

Soon enough the door to the chamber opened completely and in walked two figures, the tall and broad shouldered man was clearly King Harlon, he was a king even in old age, and then there was the stooped shouldered Ser Gared. Upon seeing them in the chamber, King Harlon looked at his guide and asked. “What is the meaning of this, why are these men here?”

At this Jon stood up and spoke his voice loud and clear. “Myself and my men are here goodfather because we have come to uphold the law. You made a grave mistake in naming Prince Donnor your heir. By all the laws of the land my wife, your daughter Queen Sansa is your heir, and you insulted her by naming Donnor your heir. I will not let that insult go lying down.”

Harlon Stark merely looked at him for a moment before saying. “I thought I raised Sansa better than this. She knows that the northern lords would never accept her as Queen, not with you as her husband. That treaty confirmed her fate the moment it was signed, she accepted her fate the moment she wed you.”

Jon laughed then and began unsheathing his sword. “Did you truly think that was the case? You are sadly mistaken my king. Already the Flints, the Woolfields and the other minor bannermen sworn to House Manderly are rallying to Sansa’s banner, and Hothar Bolton is slowly moving the strength of the Dreadfort over to your daughter’s cause. Prince Donnor will meet his end at Ramsgate and then you will be forced to name Sansa your heir otherwise war will continue.”

Harlon looked at him for a long a moment and then asked. “So you would murder innocent babes to see my daughter and your blood sit the winter throne? You whose house words are a way of life for you and yours? I think not.”

Jon sighed and then said. “Well then I guess that I have no other option then.”

He made to move away but then Harlon spoke. “Wait, no. I will not let you harm my nephew’s children. No if you want my daughter to sit the throne so badly, you will have to fight me for it. Single combat, if I win you and your men will never again set foot in the north nor shall Sansa.”

“And if I win?” Jon asks intrigued. “What then?”

“Then,” the old king of winter says. “Then you must kill me and then what happens from there is on Donnor’s shoulders not mine.”

Jon nods and soon enough, the two men are out dressed in armour before all and sundry out in front of White Harbour’s gats. Harlon Stark is big and experienced but he is old and his age slows his movements, allowing Jon to slash and cut deep into the man’s armour and body before the old man even gets a chance to bring his sword close to Jon. This goes on for some time, Jon swinging his sword and connecting with the armour, hacking and slashing his way through any defences that Harlon Stark might have. The crowd that has gathered to watch them screams and roars for one combatant or another, and the fight goes on.

On it goes, Jon swinging, the old man blocking and then getting hit again and again, on it goes until Harlon Stark is bleeding from a dozen wounds and Jon feels tired and worn down, still he pushes onward. Stark finds some strength from somewhere and then he begins swinging his sword hacking and cutting at Jon probing and attacking his way through everything that comes and goes. Jon receives his fair share of wounds and dents, his armour is stained red as well, the crowd is roaring and the sound is deafening to his ears, still they fight on neither man willing to give an inch. On they fight, swinging, hacking, cutting and blocking, fighting and fighting.

Eventually, the duel ends when Jon’s sword finds a hole in Harlon’s armour, a dent really and it thrusts through the hole and into the man’s heart, Jon keeps pushing until his sword ends up through the man’s chest sticking out through his back. Harlon Stark falls to his knees blood pooling from the wound and from various other wounds and from his mouth, and then his head drops to the ground and the King of the Winter breathes no more. “Send word to Sansa and to Donnor Stark. Harlon Stark is dead, and Winter has a new Queen.” Jon says before he walks inside.

 


	24. PTX

**Second Month of 682 B.C. Outside Trident Keep**

**Prince Edmure Teague**

Married life seemed to sit better with him now than it had done some ten years ago, he was no longer the rebellious youth determined to outshine both his older brothers, he had matured  and his wife and children had done that to him. He did not love his wife, but they were good friends, sharing in each other’s secrets, his wife had given him the key to unlocking more and more of the Westerlands for his family and as such he had used that to his advantage over the past few years. Whereas before his family had only controlled the Golden Tooth, they now had through marriage acquired Sarsfield and Hornvale and soon enough their power would extend through to Deep Den and beyond perhaps even to the Rock itself. His sons were all good men, strong and powerful, Daven his heir would make a very good lord of the Tooth when his time came, he was smart and good with arms, Lewyn who through marriage to the Lady of Sarsfield was now its lord was cunning and shrewd, and his third son Tygett was a warrior born and bred all very good things for the future Edmure had planned out for his family.

The growing power he had in the Westerlands had been his prime focus ever since the end of the wars with the Reach, and as such he had missed most of the Regency Wars that had followed his departure for home. When news had finally started trickling through he had been very angered, the Riverlords should have either seen fit to trust in Bethany and Catelyn’s leadership or they should have called for him and he would have come. Instead they had all fallen prey to the lusts of a crown, Tully, Bracken, Blackwood, Darry and Mooton all had fallen prey to those lusts and now Tully was a cowed man in Riverrun, Bracken and Blackwood were near death, Darry was gone and Mooton was the regent. Both Bethany and Catelyn had died during the war, Bethany of an illness, Catelyn killed by Walys Mooton, his own sources had told him that much, that the girl had been fool enough to trust the man after all he had become, had sincerely shocked and appalled Edmure, he had thought his nephew’s wife smarter than that.

And so it was that when news finally reached him of his great nephew’s mother’s death that Edmure finally mobilised. He called upon the strength of the Tooth, of Sarsfield and Hornvale and surprisingly even the men of Deep Den answered his call and so he left the Tooth with some 5,000 men. More men than he knew Mooton had, as he marched Lord Tully finally left his castle and added whatever strength he had to Edmure’s, as did the Freys and the Mallisters who turned traitor on Walys Mooton. The Harroways and the Strongs too added their strength and soon enough Edmure had found his numbers swelling by the day, not the week and so he was not surprised when he had come close to the Trident Keep the place of his youth that Walys Mooton had sent an envoy out to discuss terms. Edmure was not such a great fool as to believe that Mooton meant to be as honest as he wished to appear, the man was a viper and Edmure would treat him as such. Luckily, Edmure was not a green boy, and he had made his bones when Mooton had been but a suckling babe, his own reputation had meant that his orders to have archers stationed close by had gone unquestioned.

As he watched Mooton appear out of his home he knew that this would end one way, and one way only. “AH Prince Edmure, thank you for meeting me here. I had not thought to see so many men with you. After all this is supposed to be a peaceful meeting is it not?” Mooton asked his voice calm.

Edmure was silent a moment and then replied. “Indeed it is my lord. But seeing as you are occupying my family home in a most hostile manner I had thought that it would be best to bring the best level of protection I could. Hence the men you see around you. Now what terms do you wish to discuss with me?”

Lord Mooton laughed at that and then said. “Very well, straight to the point as always. Well seeing as the regency war is now at an end. I have come here to get your formal recognition of my position as regent of the Riverlands for your great nephew and our king Tristifer VII until he does come of age. As agreed by myself and the boy’s mother Princess Catelyn, I shall rule in the boy’s name until he comes of age at which point he shall be free to do as he pleases. Now, I have received acknowledgement of this from Lords Bracken, Blackwood, Piper, Lothston and many others.”

“Yet you do not hold the kingdom securely, so long as I remain here. You could just as easily have asked for my death and one of these lickspittles you call friends would have gladly done the deed for you. I am kin to the king and as such I do not know whether I can truly abide seeing your smug face in my father’s home.” Edmure said.

Mooton’s face sharpened then and his voice was less polite when he said. “You cannot hope to stand against me Edmure. I have the might of the Riverlands with me, and I have the backing of the Stormlands as well. You, you have become a foreigner in your own home. Your reputation precedes you and none wish to serve under a tyrant and a brute.”

It was Edmure’s time to laugh and smile, and for a man who rarely did either of those things, the warning signs should have been there for Mooton to see and yet the boy was blind to it. “Funny, for if you look closely you shall see that I have 7,000 men at my back. That is more men than you have here. More men than the Stormlands will be able to raise should they feel the need and considering Boremund Durrandon remains a prisoner in the Keep, they will not. Now stand aside or I shall be forced to remove you, like I should have done your father many years ago.”

“And how would you do that old man?” Mooton asked clearly bemused. “You would not break a parlay that would not fit in with your honour.”

Edmure looked at the boy and said simply. “I am not my brother nor am I my father. Honour means little and less when it comes to family. Kill him.” At that word arrows were let loose and Edmure watched with satisfaction as arrows began flying into Mooton and the men he had ridden out with. The parlay was over within minutes of that, Mooton lying face down his body covered in arrows, his companions as well. Edmure rode past them and stopped at the gates declaring loudly. “This war is over, I am the regent now. Bow down and accept peace or die by fire and steel.”


	25. Who Wants to Live Forever

**Fourth Month of 682 B.C. Broken Branch**

**Prince Donnor Stark**

Winter was in full effect here, and it was beginning to wear away at his nerves and his own resolve. The bodies of the men he had been forced to leave behind on the march from Winterfell to here had left their image in his mind, burning a brand onto him, that he thinks he will never be able to shake off. Donnor was a hard man, he had had to be to be able to justify being named heir to the Winter throne, and he had seen his own fair share of hardships growing up as it was with his father being a drunkard and abusing his mother and his other siblings. Donnor had grown up before his time, and he knew what it was to fear, but this, this was something else.

The king had asked him to see to it that the rebels, the pirates whatever or whoever it was that was causing them so much grief near White Harbour be dealt with and swiftly so. And so he had ridden off with some 2,000 men to do just that and when he had arrived all he had found was that Jon Arryn and his men were fighting and burning the places near White Harbour for Sansa, the cousin he had barely remembered. Ramsgate, Widow’s Watch, Oldcastle all had fallen to the Arryns and had bent the knee and recognised Sansa as her father’s rightful heir. There had been struggle upon struggle when Donnor had gotten to Ramsgate, he had fought hard and long with the men there, the push had been long and hard but eventually Lord Torrhen Amber had bent the knee again and so added his strength or what was left of it and they had marched for the Broken Branch where it was said that the armies of the Vale and the Manderlys were gathering.

His wife’s uncle Hothar Bolton had added his strength to theirs along the way and so their numbers were swelling and Lord Jojen Reed had brought his strength as well as that of the Towers and the Wells to the field. Reed though had brought dire tidings from White Harbour it would seem. “The king is dead.” Reed said as they were camped on the western bank of the Broken Branch. “Slain in single combat by Jon Arryn.” There was silence for a long, long time, before Lord Jojen speaks once more. “He was led into a trap. Ser Gared Manderly has been named Lord of White Harbour and his brother and nephews thrown into the Wolf’s Den. The man led King Harlon there under false pretences and Jon Arryn was there waiting for him.”

Donnor is silent for a long moment, not sure what to say, the man had been more a father to him than his own. Eventually he finds his voice and asks. “What terms did King Harlon set for this duel?” He knows his uncle, and knows he would not have ridden out to fight without considering all the options.

Lord Jojen is silent a moment. “The terms as they were before the duel were that if King Harlon won, Jon Arryn and his men and Sansa would give up all claims to the north and return back to the Vale never to return to the north again. If he lost, then all was on you to decide. That is why Jon Arryn and his Valemen are marching here with so much haste.”

Donnor nods though inside he wants to scream. “And how quickly can Lords Karstark, Umber and Hornwood come to answer the call?”

Hothar Bolton shakes his head. “No my prince. There would not be enough time. Tallhart and those closest to the king’s own host have come with Lord Reed and myself. We must make a stand now, otherwise Winterfell will surely fall.”

Donnor sighs and for a long moment says nothing, feeling choked by all that is happening. Then finally he rolls his shoulders and says. “Then we had best begin discussing the battle plan.”

Lord Jojen nods and speaks. “Myself and my men can take the river way and lead parts of the Valemen away from the main body of their host and cause chaos.”

Donnor nods and then asks. “Lord Jojen do you know if the Flints and the Manderlys have sent their main commanders with their hosts or not?”

Lord Jojen shakes his head. “I know not Your Grace. Though that should not be too much an issue, after all we have the advantage of knowing more of the land. Jon Arryn will be over confident and will not listen to the advice given to him by Manderly and others.”

Donnor nods and says. “Very well then Lord Jojen you and yours shall take the boatway pass through and lead part of Arryn’s host on a merry chase, kill all if you can. Hothar you shall command the left and I give you permission to kill as many men as you and yours see fit. I shall take charge of the centre, whilst the right shall be yours Lord Amber.”

After that the camp is alive with the bustling of men preparing for war, from the other side, Donnor can see that the same is happening in the Arryn camp, where the falcon and the wolf of the man who wants Winterfell flies high. He snorts and swears by the old gods that the Andal shall never have Winterfell or the north so long as breath is in his body. Soon enough he is armoured and he and his men are mounted, when the horn sounds the charge begins and battle is on. Donnor swings his mace with skill and proficiency cutting down men left and right, crushing their skulls as he goes, swinging and swinging and swing, men fall down and down and down. The river soon flows red with blood and the carnage continues, on and on it goes.

He takes his own fair share of blows, a knock here, a blow there, soon enough his armour is stained red with blood, so much so that it could be easy to forget that it is actually black. The push continues a swing here, a swing there, on it goes, swinging and crushing, swinging and crushing, the pain he pushes through and ignores. On and on it goes, looking for the man who killed his uncle and yet finding more and more of his own bannermen dying by his hand instead. The coward no doubt is hiding behind the northmen, the Valemen are dying as well but he seems to be only killing northmen. On it goes, on and on it goes until suddenly there are no more men left to fight.

Ser Gared Manderly is brought before him in chains, Ice put into his hand. Donnor looks at the man and says. “I should wipe out your whole family for the treason you have done. King Jon Arryn is dead, his head shall be put on a spike and sent to the Vale for my cousin to weep over. And yours, yours shall be removed and put on a spike on Winterfell.” With one fell swing, Donnor Stark now King of the North ends the winter rebellion once and for all.


	26. The Storm

**Ninth Month of 682 B.C. Storm’s End**

**Ser Arrec Durrandon**

Ser Arrec had been a nobody before Boremund and his sister had gotten themselves captured and killed respectively. His own branch of the Durrandon family had served for many years as castellans and then guards for the main line, before eventually becoming nothing more than common household knights. It was something that Arrec himself had been before escaping the ill fated battle in the Riverlands, and whereby it became clear after a council of his cousin’s bannermen had been called, that he was for all intents and purposes the Durrandon heir. And because of that he had learnt things about his family and their time as rulers of the Stormlands that he would rather have not learnt. For one thing they were facing threats from the Reach, and from the pirates in the Stepstones and the daughters, as well as threats from the Dornish and from the Ironborn. Furthermore the finances of Storm’s End were running low, war upon war was causing havoc and chaos amongst their supplies. It was a bitter truth, made even harder by the fact that they were losing respect amongst their bannermen, the marcher lords laughed at their name and the joke they had become and were even considering rebellion, and as such Arrec had been forced to wed his sons to their daughters in order to make sure they did not rebel. It was all too much for him and all that he thought the Durrandons stood for.

As for his own family well it is something that Arrec is not truly sure he wants to dwell too long upon. His own wife he had to kill for honour’s sake when he had found her abed with Ser Humfrey Penrose, a mere knight, not even a noble lord. He had killed her and then earned the enmity of his own sons for that reason. His firstborn, Arlan hated his guts he knew and often plotted rebellion, Arlan though was more a warrior and a drinker than a true thinker. It was his second son Durran who was the thinker, a plotter and too clever by half, Arrec had seen how the boy plotted and schemed when he thought Arrec was not looking, both of his two older boys hungered for something that Arrec was not sure he wanted to give them. As for his third and youngest son Robar, well Robar was smart and good at arms but he was shy and barely said two words, Arrec knew not what this son of his thought, but he thought he could trust him to some extent.  As to his two daughters well he knows Shaera whispers in Arlan’s ear about what he should and should not do and she has fucked her way through most of the Stormlords.  Gael, is sweet and innocent and he is tempted to give her to the Teague boy who is King in the Riverlands and then take the Riverlands by force.

Of course he is aware that most of this paranoia about his family makes him seem like a mad man but truly he does not care and right now the attention of the meeting being held is more important. “If you would care to repeat what you were saying Maester Goren I would be much obliged.” Arrec says.

Maester Goren an old man and a stickler for rules, and also an avid supporter of Arlan, sighs and says once more. “I said, that I do believe we should consider what Yoren Yronwood has to say about his offer from his father. After all there is a chance for significant expansion if we go through with his offer.”

His son Arlan speaks then and his voice is laced with a sweet poison. “But then surely we cannot afford to expend more and more of our strength on a foreign war, when we ourselves might have something brewing here. After all if the reports are correct, Lords Tarth and Estermont are planning rebellion and it seems Connington and Swann mean to join them.”

Maester Goren speaks and Arrec is certain there is something passing between the maester and his son. “Well I know that there are rumours of trouble brewing but then surely by giving them something to fight for in a place where they have all traditional benefitted the most, that would sway them away from rebellion and into open action for the crown once more?”

Arlan nods then and says. “Aye that does make sense. Though there is still the issue that King Boremund is still locked away in Trident Keep. How are we to break him out is the question, and would he still make a fit king if we did?”

Ser Borros speaks then. “Aye I think he would. He is the rightful king and I do not think being a captive in that damn fish prison would have done much to break his spirits. He is a Durrandon and your family is not easy to break at all. Though the question of breaking him out is the problem that I have not as of yet been able to find a solution for.”

Arrec takes a huge gulp of wine and then asks. “This is all well and good, but there is still the issue of the terms of this alliance Yronwood proposes. What are the terms?”

Maester Goren looks at the letter once more and then says.”In return for the aid of the Stormlands, Yoren Yronwood has said that his father Lord Yoren promises to give parts of the northern Dorne to the Stormlands and to give some aid in any future conflicts that the Stormlands might have with the Reach or with the Riverlands. He also suggests a betrothal between his daughter Saera and King Boremund.”

Arrec is silent for a long time as he considers this and all that it could mean for the Stormlands and its future. Whilst he still has his doubts about his own sons, he can see how this alliance might be beneficial for King Boremund when he does eventually come out of his prison. He takes another gulp of wine and then says. “Very well, arrange a meet with Yronwood. It is time the stag marched to war once more.” The next day Arrec says the exact same words to Yoren Yronwood and ravens fly and by moon’s end the forces of the Stormlands are marching for Dorne to unseat the Martells from power.


	27. Return To How Things Were

**Eleventh Month of 682 B.C. The Boneway**

**Ser Yoren Yronwood**

It had been three hundred years and more since Nymeria and her Rhoynish people had come from across the narrow sea and bewitched the Martells and their followers, since then Dorne had been subjected to the tyranny of the Martells and their queer customs and beliefs now that the corrupt culture was in practice. It had been three hundred years in which Yoren’s own family had suffered grievously from being kings to no more than petty lords in a kingdom that was slowly losing its identity. Yoren’s own father was determined to reverse this decline and see House Yronwood and Dorne back to its former glory, but of course the Martells had brought more and more allies to their side and those houses that had once fought alongside the Bloodroyal were gone now, and so Yoren had been sent to bring the Durrandons and the Stormlands to their side. Putting aside a old age grudge and rivalry had been hard but it had been done and the man Arrec Durrandon had agreed to send men and so he had. They had already marched through the Wide Way cutting through Vulture’s Roost and the Blackmonts and others, and they had arrived at the Boneway some three days ago, and finally they were to meet and discuss battle.

As of right now though, Yoren was sat waiting on a chair outside his father’s solar whilst Arrec Durrandon and his father discussed gods alone knew what. Yoren found his thoughts drifting to that of his family. His father for whom Yoren was named was a proud man, strong and good with arms, a smart thinker as well, Yoren senior was a proud man and a stubborn one at that, he had often brought Yoren up with the belief that House Yronwood should be ruling Dorne not the Martells who were nothing more than up jumped kneelers. It was something that Lord Yoren had taught to Yoren’s sisters as well, all of them were proud women proud of their Dornish heritage, and Missy was reluctant to wed Boremund Durrandon a man who had spent so long in a cell it was like he would die there, though that was one more thing that had encouraged this alliance. Yoren himself had wed Myria Jordayne some two years ago and they were now expecting their second child, he liked Myria she had big breasts and was good in bed and truly that was all Yoren wanted.

The door to his father’s solar opens and he is summoned inside. Once he sits down his father offers him a cup of wine and then speaks. “Yoren thank you for joining us. Myself and Prince Arrec here have just been speaking of the terms of our alliance. We have agreed that Missy shall wed King Boremund once the man has been freed from his chains. I trust you have seen to those arrangements?”

Yoren nods and speaks confidently. “Aye I have indeed father, Your Grace. I have made many contacts during my travels across this land called Westeros. As such one of the people I have spoken to claims that he shall be able to break king Boremund out of his cell relatively quickly and easily without having to worry about being caught or detected until the King is back and ready to lead his own armies.”

Prince Arrec’s breath stank of alcohol and he looked quite drunk when he spoke up to voice a question. “How does your man in the Riverlands, propose removing my cousin from his chains without arousing suspicion from the Teagues and their allies? All of the men we have tried have failed and have been killed. If Edmure Teague has not put in sufficient security then the Teagues deserve to fall.”

At this Yoren smiled and said. “Let me just say that my friend is someone who knows Trident Keep as well as anyone alive right now. Perhaps even better than Prince Edmure, for he grew up there.”

Lord Yoren speaks up then. “Trust me my prince, when I say that if my son says that his friend will deliver he will. He has of yet not failed us once. Now we must turn our attention to military matters. How fare your men?”

Prince Arrec takes a deep gulp of wine before speaking. “Well, they are hale and hearty and feasting off of the bounty that we took from those we fought and killed during the battles in the way and against Blackmont. But they hunger for more battle as do I. I wish to know when we shall be moving from the Boneway?”

Lord Yoren is silent a moment and then he replies. “Soon enough my prince. In fact my scouts have said to me today that it appears that Sandstone, Hellholt and the Vaith are sending men to fight us. The Daynes of Starfall remain neutral waiting to see who emerges victorious, but it should be a fairly easy battle. We shall ride out to meet them on the plains within the next two days.”

Prince Arrec nods and says. “Very good. My men shall be very happy to hear this. Now when shall the attack on Sunspear begin?”

Yoren looks at his father and sees barely concealed disgust on his face, though when his father speaks his voice is perfectly calm and collected. “Well once the host coming at our front is dealt with the Martells shall be down on some of their strongest allies. They shall have very little choice but to either march or surrender in their city. Prince Nymor, will want to fight, that is when Sunspear shall fall.”

Prince Arrec goes to speak again but a knock on the door stops him, when Ser Galed comes into the room and says apologetically. “ I am sorry to interrupt my lords, but a man at arms has requested that he speak with Prince Arrec most urgently.”

Arrec looks once at Lord Yoren and then walks out of the room, once he has gone, Yoren looks at his father and asks. “Do you truly believe Nymor Martell will leave the citadel?”

His father looks at him and then laughs. “No, Nymor Martell is too cautious to ever leave. He will want us to come to him. That is why we must beat his allies one by one and bring them to our side. Once we have done that then he will surrender once we are his gates.”

Yoren then asks. “And what of Arrec and his men? What will they think when they realise what happens?”

Lord Yoren smiles and says. “Arrec will be dead by then. His sons are plotting against him, Boremund Durrandon shall not survive his escape from prison, and then Arrec’s sons shall fight amongst one another for the Storm Throne.”

Yoren looks at his father with surprise and asks. “And what of the man I sent to free Boremund Durrandon from his cell? What will happen to him?”

“Oh he will be there, and he will be the one to kill Boremund Durrandon. The Stormlands shall never have Dorne as long as I live.” Lord Yoren replies.


	28. Steel Vipers

**1 st Month of 681 B.C. The Dornish Passway**

**Prince Arrec Durrandon**

The battle rages on, Arrec and his Stormlanders and Lord Yoren Yronwood and his allies fighting against the might of Sandstone, Hellholt and the Vaith. A mighty host indeed but not one that could easily beat the might that Arrec and Lord Yoren have assembled, and as such the fighting rages on and on and on. Arrec swings his weapon again and again and again, cutting down men with his hammer crushing their chests and their skulls and laughing like a man possessed. Battle, it is all he knows, all he knows how to do properly and he revels in it, swinging and crushing, swinging and crushing on the battle goes on and on. More and more men fall to his hammer and more and more blood begins to pile onto the sands of the Passway, and still Arrec fights on, never tiring and acting as if he was the Storm King come again, on he goes swinging and crushing men as he goes. The bodies begin to pile up around him as he goes.

Arrec comes up against Lord Damon Qorgyle and the old lord of Sandstone is the first proper challenge he truly faces. The man fights with a hammer as well and so the sound of hammer on hammer, clanging and clunking echoes throughout the pass, and for a time some of the men stop fighting to witness the brutal art set out before them. Qorgyle swings and dents Arrec’s armour, as Arrec’s blows to Qorgyle, and on it goes, one man swings and connects, another man swings and misses. But still the blows continue, the fighting goes on and on, and still they fight, and blows are rained down on one another, until with a feint and then a power hit Qorgyle is down in the ground his chest caved in and Arrec rides on, though he too is quite badly wounded.

On he goes and the battle is still raging, Arrec slightly wounded from his duel with Qorgyle can no longer ride through the enemy with as startling a frequency as he did before, and his age begins to catch up with him as well. His movements begin to slow down, but because the enemy is also beginning to weaken and tire out, he still manages to bring a fair few of them down and out to their deaths. The stranger is hovering close at hand, witnessing the debt that Arrec is paying him, and the bodies rise higher and higher, and the blood continues to flow. Arrec himself takes a fair few blows and begins weakening but still he continues fighting, on he goes, until he has to be pulled away by his son Robar lest he fall from his horse.

Still that does not stop Arrec from wanting to continue fighting, so placing his son in command of one part of the host, he rides out and continues swinging his hammer, all the while blood continues dripping from his armour and his wounds begin to make him feel feint. He crushes the rest of the host from Sandstone along with his men but before he can move onto the host from the Vaith his loss of blood causes him to fall from his horse, and when he comes to he is in his tent, Robar once again coming to the rescue. The battle it seems was won when  Lord Vaith was slain by Ser Yoren Yronwood, the alliance that Vaith, Qorgyle and Hellholt had built shattered and ended right there and then.

Something more is happening but whatever it is Robar does not say, Arrec is not surprised that Arlan and Durran are not present in the tent, Robar had always been a good lad, always kind and courteous and that just shows even more now. Perhaps once Boremund is dead, Arrec will name Robar his heir just to anger his two older boys. Not a thought that is entertained for more than a moment, for the minute word reaches him that a host from Starfall and from Sunspear itself has arrived, and battle is about to commence once more, Arrec submerges himself in his battle ritual, and having his wounds bound he puts his armour on and proceeds to ride out for battle.

This time, the battle is long and drawn out, the Daynes and the Martells know this part of the land better than anyone else, and it shows when news reaches Arrec that Lord Yoren is dead, and yet his son continues fighting. Arrec swings his war hammer but finds that he no longer has the strength to continue the mad dashes that he starts, and he ends up getting injured more often than not. The bruises and the blows come down on him harder than they did before, and he feels a spinning in his head and as if he’s about to be sick, but he is a Durrandon and he will not show weakness in front of the enemy and so he pushes on. His hammer ends the life of Ser Lucifer Dayne the sword of the morning, and his hammer kills Lucifer’s brother Gabriel Dayne Lord of Starfall. The fighting continues and Arrec kills more and more men, though his arms begin to weaken and his eyes begin to close.

On the blows continue, and Arrec knows he is done for, has known it for a long time. The blood coming out of his system is red and black and gods he knows he won’t make it to the end of the battle, let alone the day. He tries one last time to raise his hammer only for it fall out of his hands and plummet into the sand with a deep thump. Arrec looks at the attacker approaching him, if the sun and spear is anything to go by this is Prince Nymor the ruling Prince and a hell of a fighter, Arrec merely looks at the prince as the sword goes through his armour and finishes him. He dies and he knows then that this was all a trap.


	29. Plush

**First Month of 675 B.C. Trident Keep**

**Prince Edmure Teague**

Seven years had passed since the regency wars had ended, seven years since Edmure had assumed the regency, after the bloody war that had left the Riverlands broken and in need of a strong guiding hand. Edmure had played that role well, using the strength and resources he had acquired at the Tooth he had seen to it that the Riverlands were fed and kept alive during the winter that had reigned. Those houses that had supported Walys Mooton were dealt a harsh blow and those that had remained neutral were ignored largely for the most part, whilst those that had withdrawn from the conflict such as the Blackwoods and the Brackens were given warnings and had to send hostages to Trident Keep. Meanwhile, Edmure also had the task of raising his great nephews Tristifer and Edmyn, both boys grew up close to one another and were good men. Tristifer had turned sixteen the year before and had assumed the role of king, the lad was a good man, he was smart and good with a sword, and there was a hunger there, a hunger for expansion something Edmure shared. Edmyn, the boy’s younger brother was still a minor at fifteen but he was a very good swordsman perhaps the best in the Riverlands, earning his stripes for the tourney to celebrate Tristifer coming of age.

Edmure was proud of both boys and he knew that their father and grandfather would be as well. As for his own family, well his boys were doing well in the West, Daven was managing the Tooth well and had ensured that the family was secured, seeing his daughter wed to the Lord of Deep Den and another daughter wed to Lord Alyn Tarbeck, thus ensuring that both those houses now did fealty to the Tooth directly and indirectly to the Rock. His family was spreading throughout the Westerlands and growing in power and control. It was the same in the Vale, where his own brother Tristifer’s descendants were marrying into the powerful families- Royce, Redfort, Corbray, Waynwood, Templeton and others- all these houses now had Teague blood in them and were largely imbued into the male Teague line. The Eyrie would soon follow of that Edmure was determined. Of course now that Tristifer had turned seventeen offers of marriage were coming in thick and fast, which was why Edmure assumed that his nephew had asked that he meet him in his solar.

When he enters his nephew’s solar he sees him bent over a piece of parchment writing furiously, Edmure coughs and his nephew looks up. “Ah nuncle, please do come in. Sit down.” Edmure accepts a cup of wine from his king and then waits for Tristifer to begin speaking, which he does after a moment. “Now you must be wondering why I have asked you here at this late hour. I do have my reasons. Now as you know, since I came into my majority, I have been receiving a lot of marriage offers from my bannermen. From Riverrun, from Raventree Hall and from Stone Hedge as well as from the Twins amongst others. I do not know how to respond to such offers without offending the lords who have made them.”

Edmure was silent a moment and then replied. “Well, which offer has looked the most appealing to you out of the offers you have received so far Your Grace?”

His King ponders this for a moment and then says. “Well Lord Tully’s daughter is quite attractive and besides she is meant to be very smart and good at running a household. Something that I find would be quite good, but then again my own mother was a Tully and I do not want to be seen as favouring my cousin too much. Lord Blackwood’s daughter brings with her a big dowry which we could use to see to the defences of the Riverlands, and Lord Bracken’s daughter is said to be very clever. But then to wed one of those would surely insult the other, and bring war. Lady Ellysia Frey is clever and knows how to help run a household and a kingdom. Perhaps she might be the best.”

Edmure knows his father valued the Freys but since then they have grown in number and are a threat itself. This is why he says. “Perhaps it might be best to look outside the Riverlands this time, and make a match that would ensure further border stability?”

His nephew looks at him and asks. “Who do you have in mind nuncle? And is that such a good idea when it has not been done before?”

Edmure looks at his nephew and smiles somewhat. “None of your lords will be able to complain if it means that our borders are more secure than they are now. I was thinking that perhaps sending an offer of a betrothal to the Rock might make sense. King Lancel has only daughters, and the oldest Princess Shaera is of an age with you. Marrying her would mean a son of yours would be heir to the Rock as well as to the Riverlands, and as such the Westerlands would be added to our strength for any further wars, and their trading abilities could be further used.”

Tristifer ponders this Edmure can see and when he asks. “Do you think Lancel Lannister would go for it? After all the man is said to be very, very proud.”

At this Edmure smiles. “Aye the man is proud alright, but he has more sense than pride. He knows that our family is growing in power and influence in the Westerlands, already we have influence and name in the Tooth, Deep Den, Tarbeck Hall, Hornvale, Sarsfield and soon enough Crakehall and Castamere shall be ours as well. Either he risks fighting us and losing or he marries into our family and accepts the inevitable.”

“Very well,” Tristifer says. “Send the raven out to Casterly Rock with the offer. And let us see what Lancel Lannister has to say. Now there is one more issue that I wished to speak with you about. The Stormlands are vulnerable at the moment, Arlan Durrandon is facing revolts from his bannermen and as such I believe now is the right time to begin marching for conquest.”

Edmure ponders this and then asks. “And which castles would you wish to take first?”

“Fawnton, Felwood, Grand View and Bronzegate are all open for the taking, and Lord Connington has written to say that he believes that more lords will rally to our banner once these castles have fallen. Arlan Durrandon is not much loved.” Tristifer says.

Edmure nods and then says. “This is all well and good, but there must be support from within the region first. The Durrandons have reigned in the Stormlands since time immemorial, simply replacing them will be no easy feat.”

“Aye I know nuncle. Which is why I have been sending out feelers to the Stormlords. Fell and Grandison will support me, as will Connington. The marcher lords are already rebelling and once they see the storm king on the ropes they will deal with him in their own way.” Tristifer replies.

Edmure is silent and then says. “Very well, if this is the course you wish to take I shall support you.”


	30. War Ensemble

**Seventh Month of 675 B.C. Griffin’s Roost**

**King Tristifer VII Teague**

The alliances that he and his uncle had planned had come to fruition. Tristifer was now a married man, all of seventeen years old and married, his wife Princess Shaera Lannister the heir to King Lancel Lannister of the Rock. Their marriage united two Andal kingdoms and made it so that the traditional rivalries which had existed between their two kingdoms since gods alone knows when was now at an end, when Lancel died a son of Tristifer and Shaera’s would inherit the Rock and would become known as Lord of Casterly Rock and Guardian of the West. His wife was a sweet girl, she was also extraordinarily beautiful with her long blonde hair and green eyes and slim figure. Tristifer was already falling in love with her, and that she had written to say she was with child had already made him grow to care for her even more. As part of the marriage pact, King Lancel had ridden out to war with them, and had brought some 10,000 Westerlanders, all  of whom had proved useful one way or another. Another alliance had been made through a betrothal, Tristifer’s brother Edmyn who had remained in Trident Keep to hold it against potential attacks had been betrothed to Princess Jonella Gardener heir to her father King Gwayne Gardener, and this betrothal was the one that Tristifer was most excited about for it meant that soon enough the Reach too would be part of the wider kingdom that he hoped to establish.

The Stormlands are another region that Tristifer means to add to the kingdom of Andalos as he has begun to call it in his head. Calling his banners and marching with his full strength as well as whatever men his goodfather had brought with him they had met a host made up of men from Houses Fell, Grandison, Cafferen and Buckler, but it was only a mock up host as these houses had already promised him their allegiance through raven. As such it came as no surprise when after what had become known as the battle of the marshes looked to be going pear shaped where many Stormlanders died, Lords Fell, Grandison and Buckler all threw their swords down and surrendered, House Cafferen ended that day when Lord Cafferen and his heirs died due to the marshes. From there they planned their next assault and it was decided that the houses of the Rainwood needed to fall or bend the knee before the true assault on Storm’s End could begin.

The battles with the houses of the Rainwood were short and simple, often a quarrelsome people who had begun to grow weary of rule from Storm’s End, Houses Wylde, Mertyns and Tarth had all allied together to give him combat. But their might was no match for his own and what had become known as the battle of the evensong ended with Lord Wylde dead and his heir and Lords Mertyns and Tarth all bending the knee to him and recognising him as their one true king. House Connington the one true powerhouse in the Rainwood and Cape Wrath whose lord, Ronnet Connington was a cautious man finally added their strength to Tristifer’s and opened the gates to Griffin’s Roost to him, and it was within Griffin’s Roost that Tristifer and his men prepared for the final battle against King Arlan Durrandon.

“Arlan Durrandon has finally stirred from his wars against the Marchers houses and has made common cause with them. Dondarrion, Selmy, Swann, Caron all ride with him in his host. They know the terrain well but they will try and force the advantage through.” Lord Ronnet said.

“How many men do they have and will they bring more?” Tristifer’s uncle Edmure asks.

Lord Ronnet looks at the letter before him and then answers. “Some 6,000 men my prince. And no they will not be able to summon more. All the possible men of fighting age who are not with him are here with His Grace and his army. They shall not abandon their post to fight for a king they care not for.”

His uncle nods and then Tristifer asks. “Ser Arlan, will the Westermen continue to fight even without King Lancel there to guide them?” His goodfather was grievously ill having taken a wound during the fighting in the Rainwood.

Ser Arlan Westerling goodbrother to the king of the Rock speaks slowly and with measure. “They will, should King Lancel die, they are your men Your Grace. And as such will follow any order you give them, and they will do so willingly.”

Tristifer nods and then says. “Very well then. The hour of battle is fast approaching and it is one that I mean to win convincingly. Ser Arlan you shall command the westermen on the western ridge of the shiltons. Lord Ronnet you shall command the reserve of the Stormlander host and should the need arise bring up to rear Arlan’s host. Lord Mertyns you shall command the van of the Stormlander host, Lord Buckler you shall command the left, and Lord Grandison the right. As for the riverlander host we shall divide into four parts and move forth from there. Once this battle is done and Arlan Durrandon is rotting in the ground we shall move forth for Storm’s End. The question remains what will the man’s two younger brothers do?”

At this the Stormlords all look at one another and then Lord Buckler speaks his voice soft. “Well Your Grace is does appear as if it would be just the one brother at Storm’s End once King Arlan falls. For Prince Robar rode with his brother to fight the Marcher Lords and was killed by Ser Arrec Caron in the fighting there. It was always Prince Durran who was the brains behind all the plots and schemes he and Arlan came up with. The man might be made to bend the knee and see sense once his brother is dead, but he will always be a risk.”

“So what do you suggest be done then? Have Prince Durran killed and install his sister as the new Lady of Storm’s End? Who are his sisters wed to again?” Tristifer asks.

Lord Ronnet speaks then. “Well Your Grace, that might not be such a bad idea. Ser Harlan Penrose is wed to Arlan and Durran’s oldest sister Serra, and as such has a good handle on her and their children are good people, they would be loyal to you. Lord Edric Dondarrion is wed to the second and youngest sister Betha, and perhaps would not be a good choice. Dondarrion is treacherous and lecherous by nature.”

Tristifer ponders this for a long moment and then says. “Very well then. Have a letter sent to Penrose and his wife, telling them that should they add their strength to ours and help us take Storm’s End when the time comes I shall grant it to them and theirs for the rest of time. Now let us break this meeting up we have a battle to prepare for.”


	31. Broken Dreams

**First Month of 673 B.C. The Eyrie**

**Queen Regent Sansa Arryn**

Winter had come and gone and with it her husband, and her sons had gone to greet the stranger. Only her grandsons Osgood and Osrick were left of her family, and Osrick was of weak health and Osgood well the boy was not exactly the smartest but he was the King now, and as such she needed to make sure he knew what to expect. Her life in the Vale as it was had lasted for twenty years but in that time many things had happened, she had grown to care for her husband and she most definitely loved her children with everything in her being, and she had charmed the lords and ladies of the Vale. But along the way she had lost her northern roots and that was what she suspected had made her father disinherit her from her rightful place. The war that had followed that had seen much death and destruction, the ghosts of which still haunted her at night.  Her husband had not been the same after that, returning home a broken man her sons were changed as well, and it had all been for something that now she looked back on it she did not truly want.

As to the north what little information she received, said that her cousin Donnor was ruling justly and wisely, his marriage to Berena Bolton had been very fruitful and for once the Dreadfort’s loyalty was not questioned, though the loyalties of the Skagosi was very much still in question. Donnor himself was being revered for bringing an age of peace and prosperity amongst the north, and as such Sansa found herself both happy and a little sad, for she never truly gave herself the chance to get to learn more about her cousin and instead had written him off just as most everyone else had. Now she was close to death’s door she found herself wishing she had given him more thought, and now she was thinking of all the things she could and wished she had done differently. Osgood and Osrick could not make the same mistakes that she and her husband had made, she would not allow it.

“Are you okay grandmother?” Osrick asked his voice soft. “Is there something we can do to make you feel more comfortable?”

Such a sweet lad, but he was smart as well. “No Osrick thank you. No all you can do is listen to an old woman speak about things that may not interest you at present but which will most definitely interest you in the future.” Sansa replied.

Both boys perk up at that and Osgood asks. “What things grandmother?”

At that Sansa smile and says simply. “I will not lie to you both, you know I am ill and that I will likely not see out the month. But before I go there are things, lessons that your father should have taught you but did not have the time to teach you. These are the things I must tell you before I walk with the stranger.” She pauses and takes a breath before continuing. “Osgood when you finally inherit the throne and can rule in your own right, you will find a kingdom bitterly divided. Humfrey Teague and his sons and grandsons have done much to lessen the power of our family. They are wed to many powerful families here in the Vale, and as such will be able to sway them to whatever direction they wish. You will have to face a difficult remaining regency and will have to make strong marriages for yourself and your brother. Win back the loyalty of your bannermen with sweet words and sweeter actions, but always hold onto your strength and power, otherwise without that you are nothing.”

“Do you think The Teagues will make a press for full control over the Vale then grandmother?” Osgood asked.

Sansa laughs and then coughs before responding. “Oh most certainly. They are an ambitious family the Teagues. Tristifer Teague already rules the Riverlands, he has the Westerlands through marriage, the Stormlands through conquest. The only Andal kingdoms left are the Vale and the Reach. The Reach shall fall soon enough, that leaves only the Vale. Preparations will need to be made and the lords will need to stop arguing for long enough to see that.”

“How do you suggest we do that Grandmother?” Osrick asks ever the smart boy. “After all, as you have mentioned the Vale Lords are not exactly united behind one cause. And the moment you die, is the moment all hell shall break loose.”

Sansa takes a sip of water then and replies. “Why you must court their favour. Visit them, and speak with them. Learn what ails them and what worries them, and find out ways to improve their lot. Do that, and they shall be yours. And Humfrey Teague and his family must be dealt with in a way that does arouse suspicion in Trident Keep.”

Osgood speaks then. “Very well then. We shall need to begin preparing for that as well as other eventualities. Now what other things of note do you have for us grandmother?”

Sansa takes another sip of water and then says. “You must begin opening trading relations with the north and with the free cities. The winter prevented us from doing so, but now that it has gone doing so will help strengthen your position and ensure that Teague does not have all the monetary gains he can.”

“The Free Cities I can understand, but the north?” Osgood says. “Why the north?”

“Because there are certain things that are best left in the past and for new alliances to be forged through ties of blood. Mistakes were made in the past and they must needs be rectified. And trade and alliance is the only way to do that.” Sansa explains.

Osgood goes to say something but Osrick overrides him. “Very well grandmother, we shall do as you have asked. Is there aught more that we might be made aware of?”

Sansa shakes her head. “Not at present no. When there is more I shall tell you. Now leave me I must rest.”

That would be the last thing Sansa Arryn, Queen Regent of the Vale ever said.


	32. Invasion

**670 B.C. Mountains**

**King Tristifer VII Teague**

The battle began as all battles began, with the sounding of horns and the marching of hooves. For two years he had planned his conquest of the Vale and now it was going to happen. Of course the lords of the Vale who his cousin Humfrey swore were loyal to the Bloody Gate were now mustering under the command of King Osgood Arryn and fighting was about to begin. Three of the Andal kingdoms were present, King Lancel had brought the Westerlands, Lord Penrose the Stormlands and the Riverlords came under his command, and all was set and ready. Tristifer drew forth his hammer and signalled for battle to begin.

The hammer was heavier and the greater sign of a king as far as Tristifer was concerned, the Valemen were certainly proving to be quite entertaining in terms of their fighting. He swung his hammer this way and that bringing many men down, and taking a fair few wounds during the process, but still he pushed on, swinging and crushing his hammer against many a man’s chest laughing as he did so. He pushed on and on and on, swinging and crushing men, swinging and crushing, blood came pouring forth from many a man’s chest and he laughed as that happened.

At some point during the fighting, his hammer is knocked from his hand and the sword of a slain foe comes into his possession and so he uses that to cut through the men who dare stand in his way like they are nothing more than bags of meat. He swings and swings, and the bodies begin to pile up, amassing to such a numerous amount, he is certain the singers will have a fine song to sing by the end of this. And then the arrows begin flying down from the ridge, and he gets hit, once, twice, and then thrice. The fourth time he gets hit he slumps in his saddle and blacks out.

When he comes to, his uncle Prince Edmure is standing over him. “What happened?” he asks.

His uncle looks at him once and then says. “You were knocked out. King Lancel is dead and they were beginning to overwhelm us. So we retreated here to the Bloody Gate. They are currently setting up siege equipment.” He goes to speak but his uncle cuts him off saying. “The maester said you are to do nothing for a week. Let them build their equipment we shall take it down when we are ready.”

A week passes and then as soon as he is given the all clear, Tristifer gets on his horse and rides out to battle, swinging his sword like a mad man, he cuts through the men standing guard next to the siege towers, and he cuts through the men in their tents, roaring like a mad man. Hacking and cutting through, swinging and hacking, ducking and dodging, on and on it goes cutting through them like they are nothing more than a sack of meat. The fighting fills him with energy and so he pushes on through, hacking and slashing, cutting and ducking, dodging, feinting doing all he can to push them away and towards their doom.

The fighting continues for most of the day, one side not giving the other inch backwards and forwards until there are countless bodies lying strewn on the ground, Tristifer loses track of the number of men he kills during the fighting, and so he merely indulges himself in it. At the end of the first day, the Valemen retreat to their camps and passes and Tristifer and his allies retreat to the Bloody Gate. The next day the same happens, and the day after that, and the day after that.

For the next twelve months the fighting progresses like this, one month they have the advantage, the next the Arryns do, on and on it goes. The body count grows higher and higher, Tristifer watches his uncle Edmure bury six sons and three grandsons in the ground, as do countless other lords and fathers and grandfathers. He himself comes very close to death on multiple occasions, and yet the Arryns hold out, King Osgood is never sighted hiding somewhere in the Vale, but his lords: Templeton, Royce, Melcolm, Corbray all come and go, old lords replaced by new ones and the fighting continues. The war for the Vale has begun, and only one side can win.


	33. A Year On

**1 ST month of 669 B.C Plain’s View**

**Prince Edmure Teague**

War that was all it was. War, and more fighting and death. This was what his nephew’s dream was bringing them, war, death and destruction. Already he’d said goodbye to more of his kin than he’d ever known he’d had. It pained him and yet he was duty bound to obey and so he did. He commanded the troops of the right and led them either to defeat or victory at Plain’s view. The battle continued on and on, a year on and still they were getting nowhere, it was beginning to worry him slightly. The charge began and the blood of the day was spilt and still nothing.


	34. A Letter

_To my dearest Lysa,_

_My love, I know you worry and I know that the Bloody Gate is not all that far away, but I dare not leave the post of battle. The Arryns continue to push hard, I had to bury Otto and Beric today, a painful thing considering how young they were. King Tristifer, has sent to the Riverlords for more reinforcements, but I truly doubt how long we can keep going. Two years it has been and still Osgood Arryn evades us and though we have captured land, Redfort, Wickenden and Strongsong being the main castles, we are still a long way away from obtaining complete control._

_How are things at home with you and the children? Tell them I love them._

_Love_

_Yours Faithfully_

_Humfrey,_

_Prince Humfrey Teague, Prince of the Bloody Gate._


	35. Death

**667 B.C. Somewhere in the Vale**

**King Tristifer VII Teague**

Is this what it is like to be a prisoner? Tristifer wonders, captured by the Royces and strung up to dry, his dreams of conquest over? One can only wonder, what will happen now that he is here. He is surprised when Lord Robar Royce comes to him and sets him free saying. “Go and run, but never come back.”

He runs alright, runs straight back to where his cousin Humfrey is waiting with torches and arrows. “burn them,” he says. “Burn them all.”


	36. Dirge

_Dear my beloved Shaera,_

_I hope you and our children Brynden and Theo are well. All is going okay here, the war continues, the Arryns continue to withstand us despite the fall of most of their prominent castles. Some might ask why we are still here, four years down and still no sign of breaking the Eyrie itself._

_But I know, I just know that if we keep going, the Seven shall guide us, and they shall lead us to victory. It is with this that I ask you to pray for me, my love. Pray for me and keep me in your thoughts. I fight not because I want to, but because I want a better future for our children._

_I must go now, for I am about to lead the men to war once more. Hopefully this time we can take Heart’s Home._

_Yours_

_Tristifer_

_King Tristifer VII Teague, King of Andalos, writ this day fourth of the fourth 666._


	37. Broken

****

Five years since they had set out to conquer the Vale, and still they were getting nowhere. They had conquered castles only to have the lords of those castles rebel when they moved on. It was a tiring business this, and Edmure was now facing the consequences of it, lying face down, dying, his last grandson Benjamin had died a few days ago. He knew not where he was but he knew he was dead. He sighed. “Conquest and Faith indeed my king.” And then he breathed no more, dead on the fifth day of the twelfth month 665 years before the dragons landed.


	38. Traitors Everywhere

****

**12 th Month of 664 B.C. **

**Camp somewhere**

“We cannot keep this going Your Grace. In four years we have won battles and lost battles, but all the gains we had made we have also lost. Osgood Arryn remains somewhere in the Vale and his lords will not give him over to us. The war is over.” Prince Humfrey Teague says.

“I will not leave this half done. We might have lost some castles but we have gained them back. Redfort, Wickenden, Strongsong, Old Anchor, Heart’s Home they are all ours and the houses that once held them are all dead. Support for Osgood Arryn is running low now, with the search and destroy. We can keep fighting and win.” King Tristifer insists.

“That might not be possible Your Grace.” Humfrey says. “Word has come from the Riverlands, it seems your wife’s bannermen have decided to use the deaths of Prince Edmure and Prince Ben as an excuse to revolt. The Tooth has been sacked and they are marching on the Rock as we speak.”

Tristifer sighs and asks. “What would you have of me then?”

“Fight one battle at a time. We have enough men to do that, but continuing on this path would be suicide. Go defend the Westerlands from the insurgents and then come back and fight in the Vale.” Humfrey says and his other lords nod their agreement.

Sighing Tristifer says. “Let them do as they wish in the Westerlands I shall have the Vale or die trying.”

More bloodshed follows in the month to come as Runestone finally falls, but the Westerlands continue to burn and rebellion in the Riverlands begins to brew.


	39. Unease

_To the lady Lysa Banefort_

_Writ this day 4 th of the 4th 663._

_My love, I fear what is happening to my cousin our king. He grows more and more erratic with each passing day, something about this conquest has unhinged him. I know not what to do, except follow and try and curb some of his more erratic tendencies._

_I look forward to seeing you one day._

_Love_


	40. Blood On A KIng's Hands

_I cannot stand to bear witness to this folly any longer. The king has taken leave of his senses, the storming of Eyrie ended with nothing but blood and despair. For eight years now we have fought the Valemen and for what, we hold castles and land aye, but we are just as easily losing those that we had conquered in the beginning of this war. And the Westerlands are burning under Lord Reyne, or Crakehall or whoever it is. The Riverlands are also soon to see war if what Lords Bracken and Blackwood are saying is true._

_I myself am having doubts, Storm’s End and the Stormlands has paid a grievous cost for this king’s war. Perhaps we might break free now and enjoy our freedom once more? Father give me strength, we march for the Eyrie today._

From the archives of Lord Ronnel Penrose Lord of Storm’s End.


	41. A Maester's Archive

_What preceded this entry were a series of letters and recorded conversations held by King Tristifer VII Teague and his allies and sworn lords, as they were given to the citadel by maester Kendal who served the king during his reign. As can be shown, it appears the king became consumed by his desire to conquer the Vale completely, during the ten year war that was raged in the Vale, King Tristifer VII, conquered the castles of the Vale and put many of the houses that held these castles to the sword, those that did avoid such a fate were reduced to just one or two members, at the king’s insistence. Eventually during the battle of the Moon, King Tristifer VII Teague slew King Osgood Arryn and took the Eyrie, placing his banner on the flag post._

_He named his cousin Prince Humfrey Teague, Lord of the Eyrie and Guardian of the East, and with that he drew his tired and weary forces back to their homes. During the course of the war, several lesser branches of House Teague died out, and were never to be replaced. One great branch though, House Teague of the Golden Tooth, whose stalwart had been Prince Edmure Teague, had been completely wiped out during the war, and their death plunged the Westerlands into chaos, with the lords of the West not willing to be ruled by a woman or a foreigner, and so many lords claimed the crown and fought, and King Gwayne Gardener, took plunder from the West as well._

_Whenever his lady wife asked him when he was going to go and set her home to rights, King Tristifer often said he would do so soon, but when the High Septon came a calling and proposed an invasion of the north, well Tristifer had always wanted to be king of everything. And so an invasion into the north was led, though it got no further than the neck where Lord Howland Reed and his bog devils bled the weary Teague forces every step of the way. Tristifer Teague himself died at the hands of King Donnor Stark at the battle of the weeping ridge. And with his death his fourteen year old son Brynden became King, Brynden II Teague, and those rebellions that had been brewing finally erupted._


	42. A Young Trident

**Twelfth Month of 660 B.C. River Road**

**King Brynden II Teague**

Having grown up without ever knowing his father, Brynden could not say he truly missed the man. All he ever knew of King Tristifer were the stories his grandmother and mother would tell of him and the short sharp letters he would receive every year on his name day. Beyond that there was nothing, no connection, no bond, nothing. It surprised some of his friends and his new lords’ bannermen he knew that he shed not a tear when his father was buried, but how could he shed a tear for someone he never knew? His mother on the other hand he knew, his mother had been the person to teach him what it was to be a person, not an object, not a pawn but a real person. He loved his mother very much and was determined to bring her home to rights once he had dealt with the Brackens. That they and their allies had rebelled infuriated him and he was certain he was going to end them.

“Lord Bracken and his allies have some 500 men Your Grace. Not enough to cause the men to panic but enough to cause us to pause and think for a moment.” Lord Tully said.

“Pause?” Brynden asked. “We will not pause. Bracken and his allies have committed treason and it is time for them to remember that.”

“What do you suggest then Your Grace? Because no matter how we look at it they will always have the high ground, and it has been some time since there was this much open fighting in the Riverlands.” Lord Tully responded.

“What are you trying to suggest Tully? That we merely turn tail and wait for the Brackens to being fighting with their allies?” Blackwood asks.

“That is not what I am suggesting at all my lord of Blackwood. I am merely stating a fact.” Lord Tully responds.

“We attack when the sun is at its highest, I command the van, Tully the left, Blackwood the right, Lord Frey the centre.” Brynden says.

Battle is a glorious thing, that’s what the songs say at least, but Brynden quickly learns that that is not the case. Swinging his axe from left to right cutting men down as if they are no more than a sack of meat that is something that sends both adrenaline and fear running down him. His axe sings every time it connects with human flesh, and something inside him revolts at the feeling of power he gets when he sees bodies begin to pile up around him. He takes the blows that come his way in his stride, his armour slightly dented still they emerge victorious at the end of it all, Lord Bracken, his heir, and his heir’s heir all slain during the course of the fighting.

They ride for Stone Hedge after the battle, and Brynden is happy to see Lord Davos Vyrpen already has the battering rams in play, when the gates come crashing down Brynden is the first one to charge through. Killing everything in sight, be they man, woman child, babe, all die, all brackens must die for their treason. His axe is completely red once the fighting is done, no Bracken is alive safe for Lady Barbra Bracken whom Brynden weds to his brother Davos, naming him Prince of Stone Hedge. That rebellion put down he turns his attention to the West and ending the anarchy there.


	43. End It All

_Following the crushing of the short lived Bracken uprising, King Brynden II Teague gathered his swords and knights and marched for the Westerlands, his mother’s homeland. The West had been in a state of anarchy for some eight years at this point, and the Golden Tooth once the home of Prince Edmure Teague was nothing but a ruin now. It was here that King Brynden had his first battle, facing off against Lord Robert Reyne and his allies, a host some 6,000 strong. King Brynden himself had managed to bring 5,000 men to the field. A long hard fought battle was waged and at the end of it Lord Robert and his sons and grandsons were all dead, the rebel army had lost some significant commanders, and the west some significant houses. Lord Robert’s granddaughter Lady Marya Brax bent the knee and helped command her grandsire’s troops alongside King Brynden Teague to their next point of battle._

_At Sarsfield, they came up against Lord Quentyn Banefort, the hooded man as he had become known. The fighting was fierce and in the end King Brynden himself slew Quentyn Banefort and ended that man’s pretensions on the Rock. But there was more to come, for with the death of two pretenders more arose, and Ser Lewyn Hill who claimed to be the bastard of the deceased King Lancel crowned himself king and rode forth with some 100 men and began looting and pillaging the lands of Castamere, before King Brynden and Lord Jason Parren made common cause and put him down. Marya Brax and her former lover Lord Alyn Tarbeck plotted treason and at the battle of the byre, they attempted to bring it to life. A fool’s errand for King Brynden was slowly but surely winning the respect and the fear of his men and enemies alike, and more and more men lost their stomach for rebellion. Marya Brax and Tarbeck were put to the sword as were their family._

_Finally the final battle came, where King Gwayne VI Gardener who had been filling his coffers with gold from the Westerlands and his impressive host, and King Brynden II converged on Lannisport where Lord Aubrey Crakehall had staked a claim, a big battle known to history as the battle of the three armies was fought. Lord Aubrey died early in the battle slain by an arrow, but his son the new Lord Ronald continued the fight and when he died, his son Lord Steven continued fighting. Eventually Lord Steven and his uncle Ser Malcolm died and the Crakehalls were butchered and slaughtered, but left alive.  King Gwayne Gardener known to history as the hot headed, refused to give up this time dreaming of taking the Rock for himself and adding it his own domains, the fighting raged long into the night and the next day and the day after that until finally it ended when King Brynden now known as the bloody axe buried his axe into King Gwayne’s head. His cousin the new King Willas agreed to peace and it was left to King Brynden to establish a new lord of the West, whom he chose in the loyal Lord Jason Parren._

_It took many years for the West to reach stability, but that is not a tale worth telling in these final pages. Instead we turn to the final battles that Brynden Blood Axe fought whilst young. The Ironborn who had been so cowed by the defeat at Seagard had in Harras Hoare found a man willing to break the change and come to life once more. In the summer of King Brynden’s sixteenth year on this earth, the Ironborn raided everywhere from the north down to the Arbor, becoming such a blight upon the peace of the other kingdoms that King Brynden made common cause with his cousin King Willas and they advanced forth with a  mighty host to end the Ironborn threat._

_Many score battles with the Ironborn were fought on the coast and many a man won great acclaim that day, but the greatest battle during the Ironborn war was fought at Orkmont, where having managed to push the Ironborn back into the sea and having given chase, King Brynden and his cousin King Willas landed their men on the ancestral home of the Hoares and began fighting with the Ironborn.  King Willas fell in battle slain by Ravos Hoare, brother to King Harras, and through his death Brynden became King of the Reach, but during the course of the battle, Brynden slew many Ironborn fighters, fighting with such ferocity that one knight who came back with the king claims the Ironborn thought that his king was one of their own. Eventually, Harras Hoare surrendered, his brothers, sons and daughters were dead and King Brynden told him never to come to the Greenlands again for fear of death._

_Successful and now king of five of the seven kingdoms, King Brynden marched his battered army to the Starry Sept in Oldtown where the High Septon crowned him King of a new kingdom, Andalos named for the five Andal kingdoms Brynden was now a king of. King Brynden would rule through war, and peace for fifty years, and his son Theo, and his grandson Marcus after him on and on the Teagues would rule Andalos until the dragons came._


End file.
